Revised: The Veiled Concourse
by sweetarts
Summary: DBZ/HP Gohan starts a new life at Hogwarts. Chapters 1-3 are now fully revised.
1. Wizarding Gohan R

**After a long time without a new chapter, I've decided to revise all the chapters of this story. Reading through some bits and pieces of it, I couldn't help but feel the need to improve on this story. Also, I feel like I've rushed things, forced myself to dead ends. That is part of the reason why I had no desire to update. So here is the first chapter I've revised. Most of the revisions are stylistic and syntactic, and a few additions to the content. Although I can't say for sure right now, I have a feeling that there will be major plot changes that I will introduce in my revisions of the other chapters, perhaps even new chapters between those chapters. I'm unsure right now, but I'll see how it goes. Enjoy.**

**- sweetarts **

Disclaimer: I do not own DBZ or Harry Potter. You can thank Akira Toriyama and J.K. Rowling for that.

Part I: Starting Fresh

_Rest thee well_

_Remind me of your power_

_To be my constant bell_

_Of light and right, like a shower_

_Of Stars_

- _Anonymous_

Poems for Grief

Prologue

Tears and pain mixed so well that day. Sunlight bright and strong, the spring breeze whispering through the branches, deer and oxen lounging around almost listlessly—but how ill-suiting a day for such a moment.

Two figures dressed in black, the best color for absorbing the rays of the sun, its fire, stood side by side, each one attempting to comfort the other, their arms limply wrapped around each other. They stood there, under the power of the sun, in air humid from yesterday's rain, in light so bright it taunted the darkness that indwelled within them.

They stood in each other's limp embrace, both of them lost in grief and anger. To lose a husband again, to lose a father again—one was never desensitized to the loss of the loved one, even if that loved one somehow died a second time.

After two hours or so, Gohan saw a sendai-mushikui lying helplessly on the ground. Its wings were colored brown, its body small and white. From a kiss-shaped gash on its tiny chest, blood flowed out. He watched it die.

He left his mother's arms, gracefully, with a measured beat in his steps. Chi-Chi turned slowly to look at him, her body and mind taking their time to react, having been overwhelmed and fatigued by the emotional breadth of today's situation. She stood stiffly, shocked, as she watched her son crush the helpless bird with his cold hands.

"As fragile as life itself," he whispered, his eyes brimming with tears, his hands letting go, letting its brown feathers fly away with spring breeze.

--

Chapter I

_Three Months Later_

The smoke wisped off a giant crater. Electricity crackled throughout the air, as three auras steadily floated. Gohan fought both Piccolo and Vegeta. The duo disappeared then reappeared; they sent ki balls at Gohan.

Gohan smacked each one away effortlessly, a bloody smirk his reciprocation to them. Quicker than both of them could sense, Gohan curled his fist and rammed it in into Piccolo's stomach hard. Piccolo's eyes popped out and his mouth gaped open. Gohan opened his curled fist, and shot a hot white ki blast, sending him smashing through a mountain or three, Gohan wasn't sure, he had already reverted his attention to Vegeta.

Vegeta smirked, almost proudly, almost like a father.

--

"_**What are you doing Vegeta?" **_

"_**Move out of the way, women, that son of yours needs to train."**_

"_**You insensitive bastard! Get out of my house right now!"**_

"_**It's been a month. He can't hide behind you any longer, the coward."**_

"_**His father died, and you have the nerve to call him a coward? Get out, you piece of shit, get out!" **_

"…_**He is the greatest warrior this planet has every seen…he is our only hope if some crazy bitch stronger than Cell comes looking to fry all of our asses and conquer the galaxy. We need him, I need him, and you know that… Goku, would want him in my hands to train."**_

"_**,,,,,,, I'll go get him."**_

_******_

"_**It's time to train, brat."**_

"_**I'm not training, fucker."**_

"_**What'd you call me?"**_

"_**Monkey fucker."**_

"_**FUCK THIS, I'M GOING TO KNOCK SOME SENSE INTO YOU… OW, SHIT!"**_

"_**Let me be, I'm a useless shithole."**_

"_**Train with me, and you won't be so useless anymore."**_

"_**I can't train… I'm tired of fighting. I'll just fuck up and kill someone again… like I killed my father."**_

"_**You didn't kill Kakarot, that android-fucking bastard did."**_

"_**I killed father, and I should kill myself too."**_

"_**THAT'S IT! You won't disgrace the Saiyan race with your moping, your fuckingly immature self-pity! Look at yourself! Kakarot would be ashamed to call you his son."**_

"_**No he wouldn't…"**_

"_**Yes he would. He is a full-blood Saiyan, and however much he has been socialized on this planet, he'd be disgusted if he saw his son withering away because of petty emotions.... Gohan, your father would not want to see you like this. Honor his name, and be the warrior only you are capable of being. We all need you Gohan, we all need you."**_

"…_**. Fine."**_

_  
--_

_Kakarot's brat is getting stronger every day, unsurprisingly. I doubt the kid can surprise me anymore after the Cell Games. Yes he's stronger than me, he's quicker than me (he's definitely not smarter than me, or sexier than me, well he's only a kid I guess, but hey, it'll be a perennial fact), but I'll raise Trunks to become stronger and faster than him someday! When I get back to the woman's house, I'll grab my brat (he may not even have gone through one earth year, but like I give a shit), force him away from his stupid video games, and throw him into the Gravity Room. He isn't getting away this time! He can't trick me into..._ "FUCK!" His chest ached, his stomach hurt, he was engraved in a mountain, and he had the wind blown out of him

"Tsk tsk tsk. Vegeta, I'm very disappointed in you. You of all people, caught off guard! Remember Veggie head, constant vigilance!"

_The worst part about that blasted kid's incredible power, besides his being stronger than me, is that he's got a damn attitude now! Although that's partially my fault. I started the war of words; he had to acclimate to the situation fast. _"Stop talking brat! Talk when you're wiping the floor with me. Since that's never going to happen, I'll have the pleasure of never having to hear your voice for the few seconds it takes me to beat your ass to the ground."

"Tough words little man" Gohan coolly replied. He loved to push Vegeta's buttons.

"What did you call me you stupid brat? That's enough!" Vegeta phased out. He was about to attack Gohan, but a scream pierced the forest, and rang in the three warriors' ears like a shrill whistle.

"YOU IDOTS! GOHAN, PICCOLO, VEGETA! FLY YOUR BUTTS TO MY HOUSE IMMEDIATELY!"

Gohan grimaced as he heard his mother's scream. Coolness became terror. Fighting evil Saiyans, bi-curious alien men with lips colored by purple lipstick, or lizards made of the cells of the greatest warriors in the universe amounted to little when facing mom and her treacherous Frying Pan of Gloom and Doom. _Someday I'm going to have to accidentally use the dragon balls to wish that pan away to a far off galaxy. _Gohan waved at Vegeta to accompany him on his adventure to hell and Vegeta reluctantly agreed, but only because he was sure that Kakarot's woman would tell his woman that he had not listened to her command.

_What am I? Some kind of man whore? I should only have to listen to my woman!_

Gohan flew over to Piccolo and gave him a Senzu Bean. Piccolo took it and knowingly glanced at Gohan. "I think I'd rather go to hell than into your house, Gohan."

"Aw come on Piccolo! It can't be that bad!" Gohan nervously replied.

"Whatever, kid. Convince yourself that it's not a big deal."

"Hahaha..." The three warriors flew off to face the living incarnation of death itself, as much of a paradox as it sounded.

They arrived. His mother was talking to someone. Gohan was quite surprised that someone had come to his home, because after all, his house was hundreds of miles away from the city. He heard the words 'forest', 'so much harm', 'environment', and 'the poor animals!'

_I wonder what's up this time,_ Gohan thought. The trio walked into the house.

Chi-Chi smacked them hard on their heads with her pan.

"What was that for you harpy?" Vegeta growled.

"You'll find out soon enough! You three have caused a lot of trouble these last couple of days and this man right here wants to talk about all the problems that you've been creating," Chi-Chi hotly retorted.

The trio's gaze shifted from Chi-Chi and settled onto a young man in a black suit. The man opened his mouth to speak and was about to say something until he was rudely interrupted by the impatient Prince of Saiyans: "This guy is wasting my time! I'm leaving," Vegeta turned his back to leave, only to be whacked by the FPGD. "Damn it woman! I should take you to court!"

"And what would Bulma do if you did that?"

Vegeta's glare slowly wilted, and he immediately shut up. He knew that he wouldn't have sex, training, and food for months. He never wanted his nightmares to become a reality. Vegeta shuddered at the thought. Gohan and Piccolo lightly chuckled at the Prince of all Saiyans being silenced by a woman, a human woman.

"Shut up! At least I tried, unlike you cowards," Vegeta muttered. Gohan and Piccolo both blushed at hearing the remark, because they knew there was no chance they would step out of line inside Chi-Chi's house.

"Thank you. Now please continue Mr. McFadden," Chi-Chi calmly said.

"Thank you Ms. Son. First, I would like to introduce myself to you three. I am the spokesman of PEMA (Pigs for Moral Treatment of Animals), an organization meant to protect the moral rights that animals deserve."

Vegeta cackled at that. "Moral rights! HAHAHA! I didn't know animals have moral rights! What a joke, humans barely have moral rights in my book."

"Yes, animals have moral rights. After all, they can comprehend pain in many circumstances. I say that animals should never be harmed! Never ever ever. People seem to go around killing animals as if animals had no feelings, but animals know and feel the cruel acts people do to them. Animals aren't mindless robots."

"Oh too bad. You know what they say, survival of the fittest," Vegeta pompously replied.

"That doesn't mean we can hurt animals! Anyway, back to the specific matter at hand. As I was walking by the forest picking flowers and acorns for my collection, and petting cute little bunnies..."

Vegeta howled. Gohan smirked; it's not look Vegeta would notice. _He sounds positively lovely. _

"Picking flowers and acorns! HA! This is too good! Run away and play with your dolls you little bi-curious freak!"

Mr. McFadden looked unshaken by Vegeta's insults and continued as if Vegeta had never said anything (Vegeta obviously didn't take this too kindly). "As I was saying, while I was enjoying nature, I saw trees being torn apart by... energy blasts. I was horrified at the rate the forest was being destroyed, so I knew that I had to find out what was creating such havoc. I looked up at the sky and saw you three, floating in the air fighting. I tried to yell at you monsters, but you couldn't hear me, it probably was the cruel blood of savages pumping through your aroused cocks that desensitized you all." Vegeta and Piccolo almost exploded, but Chi-Chi kept her glare trained on the three of them. Gohan was confused.

_What does 'cock' even mean?_

"I stumbled across this house and told Chi-Chi here that if you didn't stop, I would take you three to court."

Vegeta snarled, "Take us to court?" He grabbed Mr. McFadden by the scruff of his neck. "I don't think so. I'm sure you remember those energy balls. They're actually ki blasts. Well, let's say I used those ki blasts right now. Instead of blasting the forest to smithereens, how bout I blast you to Hell, so that the three headed goats can fuck you in the ass."

Mr. McFadden instantly paled at this comment. "If I have to be a martyr for the environment, then so be it! I will do anything to save the earth, including receiving it in the ass from my fellow comrades."

Gohan shook his head in disapproval because of the extreme measures the man would take to protect the environment. Piccolo realized that the McFadden guy was being serious. "Vegeta, let him go." He surprisingly complied.

"Thank you! I guess this means you will agree to my wishes, green man?"

"No it doesn't, just because I'm green, doesn't mean I'm green, if you know what I mean, jellybeans. " Piccolo looked at the others to see if they knew what he meant. Piccolo grumbled in frustration. "It means that just because my skin color is green, I'm not exactly the greenest guy around." Once again, no one understood. "Never mind you dim-wits. Let me make this clear to you Mr. McFadden: if you never bother us again, you'll actually walk out of here alive."

Mr. McFadden's expression quickly became one of fear. He ran out the door, never to be seen again.

"Stupid tree-hugging hippies! I Bulma told me they didn't exist anymore!"

Gohan just said, "You need to get out more Vegeta. Learn some social skills and go, you know, shopping, to comedy clubs, bars. It'll probably help you let off some steam. Sometimes, you're a little too hot-headed." Vegeta scowled at Gohan's remark. Gohan continued, "Even I know about the environmentalist movement. Unfortunately, some people are just too extreme."

"That's what I meant, those green boys!" Piccolo childishly pointed out. He felt sheepish when he was ignored.

"Ha! Environmentalist movement! There won't have to be one if I just blast this stupid planet into oblivion."

"Like you would even dare do that. You love this planet, don't you Veggie Burger?"

Vegeta simply glared back at Gohan. Everyone knew that Vegeta was becoming increasingly fond of the Earth, even if he didn't dare admit it.

Gohan heard a small tapping on the window, and walked toward it. A brown owl was attempting to get inside the house. Gohan opened the window, the owl came in, and gave Gohan a letter. It quickly left the house flying back to who knows where. Well, first, it shitted on Mr. McFadden's head.

Chi-Chi and Piccolo surrounded Gohan, curious to know what the owl had given him, while Vegeta stood over at the corner like the badass he was. For the Sons, receiving a letter was unusual; Gohans was extremely curious. Gohan examined the letter in his hand. The letter had the name 'Hogwarts' imprinted onto it in a fine bold print. Gohan admired the calligraphy and the small crest that he assumed was the crest of 'Hogwarts'. Gohan carefully opened up the letter, interested about its content. Gohan felt an odd pull towards the letter, as if his energy was connecting him to it. Gohan opened it up, and read it in two seconds with his lightening reading skills. Gohan's eyes widened at what he read, unbelieving.. Gohan looked up at his mother's eyes and saw that his mother was clearly concerned at why her son looked so distraught.

"What's wrong Gohan? What does the letter say," Chi-Chi asked. Gohan read the letter aloud to all of them. "You're a wizard? This has to be a joke." They all turned to the sound of knocking on the door. "Who is it?"

"Albus Dumbledore. I have a message for Son Gohan." At Gohan's name, Chi-Chi, bewildered, glanced at Gohan, and then opened the door. A tall man with an odd pointy hat greeted them. He had a long grey beard, silver robes, and circular spectacles. His blue eyes and relaxed features gave him a comforting appearance, the twinkle is his eyes his most disconcerting feature.

"As I previously said, I am Albus Dumbledore."

"Hello Mr. Dumbledore." Gohan boldly stepped forward. This strange man was looking for him, and so he would deal with him. "It's nice to meet you."

The old man smiled brightly. "It's my pleasure to meet you, Gohan." They shook hands. Gohan sensed excitement in that handshake. It wasn't coming from Gohan, it was coming from this strange old man. The handshake unnerved Gohan slightly. Otherwise, he maintained a detached amiability.

"So you've brought a message for me all the way from, Great Britain, I presume?"

"You presume correctly, Gohan. The message must be very important is what you're essentially saying."

"Yes." Gohan looked at him with slightly narrowed eyes.

"Well, it is very important. You just received a letter from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, correct?"

"I did." Gohan began to piece things together.

Piccolo growled. "Are you saying that you're affiliated with this fictitious magic school."

"That is almost precisely what I was about to say, without using the adjective 'fictitious,' mind you, because Hogwarts is entirely real, as is magic. You of all people should know, Piccolo, having associated yourself with the Kamis of the earth and being a Namek yourself."

Piccolo looked stunned, as did the rest. "But they're Namekians, we are… uhh… human." _Does he know I'm a Saiyan too?_

"Magic, I theorize, is universal to intelligent life. Whether I am right or wrong, I cannot ascertain, for I have no means in determining the validity of my belief. But I'm sure, Gohan, you've seen magnificent things that as I child you never believed were possible."

Gohan stiffened at that. "Yes, I have.

"Then take my word and believe this: magic is real, and humans can wield it. I am the headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and I'd like to confirm to you personally that yes, you have been accepted into Hogwarts."

The five of them spent the next hour talking about the world of magic. Vegeta made several cheeky comments throughout the conversation. "Hog-warts! HA! What a ridiculous name! It's almost as bad as..."

"Your name, Veggie Head," Gohan snidely remarked. Vegeta glowered at Gohan.

"Riding on brooms! That's ridiculous! HA! It probably leaves some painful marks on mens' features. Don't tell me wizards don't have those too! Hahaha."

"It's not as if yours are anything to be proud about." Vegeta shut up again, and everyone chuckled. _I __love getting him riled up. It's almost as good as eating... this talking sure is making me hungry!_

At the end of the conversation, Dumbledore asked Gohan if he'd accept. Gohan was hesitant and thought it over for several seconds. With inquiring eyes, he looked at his mom first. Her wet but proud eyes told him everything. _It would be extremely difficult to train at Hogwarts without getting noticed and I need to get stronger in order to be able to fight the next big threat without... people dying. _Coldness waved over him as he thought of his father_. But maybe magic will make me stronger. Maybe it'll make me a better-rounded fighter, with more tricks and strategies. It could help me control my power. I'd miss mom, and she'd miss me, but if we both know that's it_ _for my best, for earth's best, then I should accept. _

"Professor Dumbledore, I accept your invitation."

Dumbledore looked extremely pleased. "Excellent! Now just read over the supplies you need and one of the professors will come over to your house and take you Diagon Alley to buy your supplies. Have a good day. Farewell." Dumbledore disappeared.

"Where did that old man go? How did he do that?" Vegeta asked, his tone quavering.

"Magic." Gohan smirked. Vegeta just scowled as he always did.


	2. Magic Veggie Ball and Diagon Alley R

Chapter II

The sun had just risen when Gohan woke up. He was used to getting up at sunrise. He needed to spend every hour wisely and use as much time as possible for everything he wanted to do.

The soft rays hit Gohan's face as they broke through the window. He opened up his eyes and remained lying on his bed, while he mused on the Cell Games, a normal part of his morning routine since his father's death. Reflection was one of the first steps to getting over grief. He had to cope with self-blame for many months, thoughts like _I should've finished Cell off when I had the chance, now dad is dead. _A few shameful tears would well up in his eyes, his guilt bursting. He eventually came to realize that feeling guilty and regretful was a waste of time. Time was irreversible, alternate realities were the only consequence of going back in time. There was no point in crying. He had to deal with life in this universe, not wish away his problems and cry over unfixable mistakes. Gohan rationalized that if a person learned from a mistake and ensured not to commit the same mistake in the future, he or she had at least learned something.

Despite his epiphany, he lingered on the past. Now though, there were fewer 'useless' feelings, and more thoughts about how to prevent catastrophe. He resolved to train harder and to never toy around with a serious threat. 'Show no remorse. Pick the monster apart. Beat him down and kill him immediately without second thoughts.' The Cell Games had changed Gohan. He was becoming cold, distant. He spent less time with friends, and more time secluded, training with Piccolo and Vegeta. They greatly influenced the vulnerable Gohan.

Gohan snapped out of his thoughts and followed the rest of his usual routine. Once he had finished, he went outside to find Piccolo and Vegeta.

* * *

"Is that all you got Vegeta? I'm not even trying anymore. I'm just cooling down.

"Damn brat!" Vegeta hurled himself to strike Gohan, but Vegeta met the air instead of Gohan's body and soon after, he heard a _crunch; _his back was aflame with pain. Gohan sent him crashing toward earth. He sent a massive ki blast to make sure to keep Vegeta down. Blue light, bright and blinding, soon enshrouded everything. As the light faded, Gohan began to count. "1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6... 7... 8... 8 and a half... 9... 9 and a half... 9 and three quarters... 10! K.O.! Here is your winner, the savvy, suave, strong Son Gohaaaaaaaaaan! Your losers: the hotheaded, hanky, honking Veeeeeeeegeta and the green and growling Pi-cco-lo! Give them a round of applause everyone! They deserve it for lasting three more seconds today, against your beloved hero. I would like to thank my mom for this victory, my..."

"Oh shut your damn yapping brat!" Gohan smirked. He knew Vegeta hated being teased by anyone, especially a half-breed like himself.

"Gohan, I liked you better when you were whining little brat instead of a cheeky smartass," Piccolo remarked.

"You guys are just a bitter that I whooped your ass. You've got to earn the right to not be insulted by me." Gohan laughed. Vegeta mumbled something about not remembering Gohan having whooped his ass. "That's because I knocked some screws loose in that big head of yours."

"Really?"

"Really, really Veggie Head. Look at a mirror, I'm sure even you won't be able to ignore how ugly you look now. I mean, you seem to have this weird delusion that you're actually sexy. I've always wondered how you can wake up every morning, look in the mirror, see that hideous face and say 'That's sexy' when it ever so clearly isn't."

Vegeta stopped pursing the subject. He didn't need to get further embarrassed.

"As much as I enjoy seeing Vegeta getting word raped by Gohan, I know I'll see it again tomorrow. So seriously, I have something to give you Gohan for your stay at Hogwarts," Piccolo said.

Gohan was interested. "What is it Piccolo? I'd like to express my gratitude to whatever it is in advance."

Piccolo floated over to Gohan with something in his hand: a spherical object covered by a violet veil. Piccolo took off the veil. He held an object similar to Babba's ball. "This ball was created by Dende at my request. What I wanted was a ball that you could use to see any person you really need advice from while you are at Hogwarts to speak to them. Unfortunately, Dende being Dende, he made the ball only allow you to talk to Vegeta for consoling."

"WHAT! I HAVE TO CONSOLE THIS UNGRATEFUL BRAT!"

"Aww Veggie Head! We get to be Best Friends Forever! Don't try to fake your annoyance; I know that deep down inside, you're positively exploding in sheer delight."

"More like exploding in sheer disgust!"

"Try to play hard to get, but you know that someday we'll be Best Friends Forever!"

"When hell freezes over and Bulma becomes a Super Saiyan, I **might **begin to think about it."

"That's definitely happening soon. I say, never. But hey, never isn't that long to wait when I get to be BFF with Vegeta. Admittedly, despite the ball allowing me to bond with Veggie Head over her, it would have been better if the little sadist created a ball that that allowed me to speak to whomever I wanted. Oh well, it's a gift I guess." _It doesn't mean that if Vegeta doesn't give me any good advice and because of that, I get screwed over, you're safe Dende. Hell no! You'll be blasted into smithereens you evil little sadist._

"I think I'll name it the Magic Veggie Ball, MVB for short."

"Stupid brat," Vegeta hissed, crossed his arms, closed his eyes, looked away, and finally huffed.

"Trademark that shit," Piccolo muttered.

"I already have."

"You're bigger douche than I thought."

_What's a douche?_

"I don't need one."

"You fucking idiot, Vegeta."

_I know what that means. And that he is._

"What? Are you hinting that you want a douche right up your green…"

"Gohan! A professor from Hogwarts is here to take you shopping for your materials!" Chi-Chi informed him.

_Thank Kami, but not Dende, actually fuck Dende. Oops, I shouldn't have said that. Mom would've been furious if she heard me say that aloud. _"Coming mom! Bye guys, I've got to go."

"Tomorrow, here, eight a clock sharp! No slacking off." You-know-who said.

"Eager to get your ass handed to you, aren't you Vegeta?" Gohan smirked.

"More like I'm eager to mop the floor with you!"

"I didn't know you were the maid of the household. Now I know where those rough hands come from."

Vegeta just glared at him and just mumbled, "disrespectful brat," to himself, but Gohan heard, and that was music to Gohan's ears. It was victory in the battle of words against Vegeta once again. Vegeta flew away.

"BYE MY NEW BFF!" Gohan cheerfully yelled and began to leave.

Piccolo stopped Gohan before he left. "By the way Gohan, be careful around those wizards. You can't let them know about your powers. Who knows how they would take it if they found out. You neither may talk about your father nor us. I'm sure there'd be someone smart enough at that school to connect the dots and figure out who you truly are if you reveal too much about yourself." Gohan knew that Piccolo was going to warn him. Gohan felt this was the worst part about going to Hogwarts: hiding nearly everything about himself from everyone. Gohan sure wasn't looking forward to that part.

They said their goodbyes. Gohan flew home, excited about embarking on the beginning of his new adventure. He entered his room and saw an extremely tall and scruffy man. He had an unkempt overgrown beard and long shabby hair. He'd be intimidating if he didn't have that smile on his face.

"Ah Gohan! I wer just talkin' to yeh mother over here. Name's Hagrid." He extended his hand to Gohan. Gohan smiled and shook his hand. Hagrid was speaking in English, unlike Dumbledore, who spoke Japanese to them, expertly and with barely an accent. Many of his friends had a good grasp on English. The Sons and Briefs spoke it almost perfectly.

"Gohan, I told Bulma about your acceptance into Hogwarts. She was skeptical at first, but I managed to convince her that it was not a scam. Anyway, she gave you money to buy your items." Gohan's eyes widened. He then shot his eyes down, looking at his shuffling feet. "It's okay Gohan, it's okay. She's your godmother and she loves you very much. She did this because she cares about our family and you."

Gohan smiled. "Tell Bulma I'm very grateful."

Chi-Chi looked pleased. "Sure honey. Hagrid, thank you for the pleasant conversation, you're a real charmer."

Hagrid blushed a bit at her compliment. "Yer welcome Miss Son. Well Gohan, time ter get movin', I need somethin' done too. Bye Miss Son."

"Bye Hagrid. Be good Gohan!"

Gohan nodded and said bye to his mother.

Gohan and Hagrid walked out of the house to prepare for their departure. " 'old on tight Gohan. Wer takin' a portkey ter Diagon Alley."

"A portkey?"

"A magical object tha' transports yeh ter yer destined location." Hagrid showed him a pink sock.

"It's just a pink sock. How is a pink sock going to do that?"

"It's a portkey."

"It's just a pink sock."

"Jus' grab onto me Gohan and you'll see." Gohan obeyed. His stomach flipped upside down and turned inside out. He held back the urge to throw up. He landed with a thud, and opened his eyes to the magical world. _Awesome_, he thought as he examined the architecture of Diagon Alley. Truthfully, it wasn't mightily impressive, but this place felt so different from his rustic life back home, and the flashy city life in any of Japan's major cities.

"That was nice," Gohan bitterly remarked.

"It's always **nice **the firs' time. Don't worry, it'll turn bad when yeh get used to it." Gohan liked that he noticed sarcasm. "Gohan, we need ter exchange the money yeh have for wizardin' money, so come 'ere and follow me ter Gringotts Bank." Gohan nodded and they walked towards Gringotts, while Hagrid explained to him the wizarding money system. On entering Gringotts, Gohan was startled at the sight of the creatures with large heads and long thin fingers. They all looked peeved.

"Are those..."

"Goblins. Yes siree. They're nasty creatures who always wake up on the wrong side of the bed. Wizarding relations with Goblins aren't ter good so they won't take ter kindly towards you. Try ter be respectful, and don't get them angry. You don't want them angry." Things went smoothly for Gohan and he got his money. "1,000,000 galleons! That's loads of money!"

"Yeah, my godmother is filthy rich, so this is nothing to her. Anyway, Hagrid I think I'd like to do a little bit of exploring. I'm extremely curious about Diagon Alley and I'd like to take it all in. Would you mind if I went shopping alone?"

"Certainly not Gohan. I need ter get some things done anyway. I'm going to Knockturn Alley, but don't you dare go in there!"

"Okay Hagrid." Gohan said coyly.

"We'll meet here at ten past three."

Hagrid left, leaving Gohan alone to confront the magical world. After exploring a bit, his stomach started to growl and Gohan decided to go look for some food. "Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor the Best Ice Cream Magic Can Make" Gohan read aloud from the parlor's sign. It was a small store, with a few outdoor tables to enjoy one's ice cream. Gohan went up to the service counter and read the floating menu. The banana split caught his eye, so like any normal person with a sugar craving he ordered ten of them.

The young woman attending customers stared at him as if he had just grown a unicorn horn. "You're ordering for a group, right kid?"

Gohan shook his head. "Why do you ask?"

"Isn't that a lot for one person?"

"Nah, maybe for you but for certain people, this is normal. Maybe you haven't noticed. Get out more for some fresh air, and you'll realize that." Gohan smirked when he saw the confused look on her face. He wasn't about to give out free brochures about Saiyan secrets.

Gohan turned around and was shocked that the previously empty benches were all completely occupied. _What the hell? I have a feeling this is one of Dende's evil plans again. If this turns out bad, Dende will have some explaining to do. If he can't explain, his life will be several years shorter than Kami's._

He looked for any space. After a few seconds, Gohan noticed an empty bench at a table occupied by a small raven-haired girl. Gohan shrugged his shoulders and sat down at the table The girl glanced at him and was about to say something, until she realized that all the tables were packed. She resumed eating her sundae and didn't say a word. Gohan inconspicuously observed the young girl. Gohan had a feeling she was a first-year like him. Her black hair was slightly longer than shoulder length and they curled in pigtails with two bronze colored bands holding them. Her eyes were blue and naturally prideful.

Gohan was bored at just looking at her so he decided to start a conversation. "What were you going to say?" _Well she was about to say something so I guess that's the best way to start, even if I know what she was going to say._

"To get the hell out of my table."

Gohan raised an eyebrow. _I like her already. '_"Now that wouldn't have been nice." Gohan playfully pouted.

"Like I would care." Videl glared back at him briefly and looked away to continue eating her sundae.

Gohan retracted his opinion about her. _Never judge people too quickly. What the hell is her problem? It's like she's already PMSing. Well actually, judging from the hills my eyes are rolling over, I'm not surprised. Damn Future Trunks and his porn movies. If he never had shown me those, I wouldn't be so damn mature (if you could call me that hehe)._

"Calm down a little. I just want to talk to someone," Gohan told her. She didn't even look up at him. He sighed, clearly he wasn't the best at getting someone out of their shell, nor was he any good at starting a conversation. He didn't feel hungry anymore and threw away the other nine sundaes. _I'm surprised she didn't notice all the sundaes I had. _He felt he was missing out on something about her. He could've sworn he had seen her before. _Where have I seen her before?_ He tried to recall. Loathing ebbed within him as he slowly recalled. _In the newspaper after the Cell Games. She was that imposter Hercule's daughter and she was in the picture standing next to him during the parade. What was her name? Viper, Vicky, Vicious. It's got to be Vicious, I mean just look at her. _Gohan mentally chuckled. _Vile, Viden, Vipel, Videl... Videl! That's it._

"Clearly your father hasn't taught you proper etiquette. I know the supposed great Hercule is the world martial arts champion (not that that means anything), but I would expect him to attempt to teach his daughter manners for all those fancy dinners he's bound to be invited to... Videl." Gohan was pleased when Videl's eyes shot up at him, even when she looked like strangling him.

"How the hell do you know who I am?" Videl practically screamed at him.

"Chill girl, I saw you in a photo in the newspaper after the Cell Games with your buffoon father."

Videl slapped him hard. Cold as ice, Gohan stared her down. She seemed unaffected by his death glare. "How dare you insult my father! What secret truths do you think you have to question my dad's martial arts ability? Don't say you didn't say that because I know that is what you implied when you called him a supposed world champion and the supposedly great Hercule."

"I don't think I like to answer spoiled brats' questions."

"Then go screwing around somewhere else you asshole!"

"Gladly." Gohan sneered. He threw away his half-finished sundae and quickly left the fiery raven-haired girl. _Even worse than her father. Just as stuck-up but lacking the social skills and she can't control her damn temper._ Gohan chose to forget her, hoping that he would never have to go through the agony of talking to her again. He looked at his list and decided to go buy his books. Along the way, Gohan cursed Dende for making him meet her. If he had never met her, Gohan would have given his ears a favor and his stomach would have been filled with 9 ½ more sundaes.

Gohan entered a dark wooden store known as Flourish & Blotts. The name amused him; he tried to figure out what it meant. _Flourish & Blotts? Our minds flourish from blotts in books? That makes sense I guess. It's still a dumb sounding name. _Gohan delved deeper into the store, and saw a huge crowd of people surrounding a blonde wizard with a dazzling smile. Gohan walked towards the crowd, curious about what the ruckus was about. "To display my limitless benevolence, I will give Harry Potter here, my entire set of autographed books for free!"

The crowd cheered and chanted "Gilderoy Lockhart!" Many people savagely pushed each other away, everyone wanting to take a picture of Gilderoy Lockhart and Harry Potter. Gohan ignored the crowd and examined this "Harry Potter". Harry was a lanky boy, with dark messy hair, emerald eyes, and an odd lightning bolt scar on his forehead. Gohan looked toward Lockhart and he instantly decided that he didn't like him. Lockhart had an annoyingly invariable smile pasted on his face. Lockhart seemed cavalier and haughty. Gohan also found it hilarious that Lockhart didn't notice the Harry's forced smile. Gohan knew that Harry wanted to be as far away from Lockhart as possible.

"Thank you Harry boy! You're almost as popular me. Keep on working hard, and you might become just as great," Lockhart exclaimed. Gohan saw Harry grimace at the possibility. Gohan snickered. Admittedly, Gohan wasn't sure why Harry had such a poor opinion of Lockhart's magical talent. After all, he seemed popular with the wizarding world, which might have meant that he was a good wizard. Gohan mused on and decided that Lockwart was obviously an airhead and Harry probably hated him for that sole reason as much he did. Popularity also didn't necessarily mean it was deserved. Hercule was a living breathing example of that.

Gohan approached Harry once the crowd dissipated. Something about Harry interested him. "Hey, Harry. I'm Gohan, and I just wanted to compliment that lovely smile that was on your face. It was class." Gohan said, purposely filling his tone with sarcasm.

Harry grinned at Gohan. "I bet it was a real beauty eh? I'm not really much of a smiler, but I guess with Lockhart next to me, he inspired me to dig deep inside the bowels of my body and come up with real cracker. Some ladies probably dropped dead at the sight of my sexy smile." The words came awkwardly out of Harry. He hesitated and stumbled over them; he clearly wasn't used to speaking like this, but for some reason or another, a stranger was seeing another side of Harry.

"You floored them! Lockhart's got nothing on you. Maybe you can give me some pointers. I know a hot chick I want and I need some lovin, so you know, work your magic on me and I'll come out a smooth and suave as Don Juan."

Harry laughed. "The more galleons you give me kid, the more quality girls you'll be able to roll under your finger. Let's say 1000 galleons, and I'll give the pointers you need for some fine ladies. You'll come out and be able to sex up the lovely ladies of the Swedish Volleyball Team."

Gohan's eyes glazed over and he sighed. "Wooooooooooooooow... I'm already feeling them ! Woof woof" They both burst out laughing. Gohan motioned for Harry to get closer and whispered into his ear, "Don't worry, I'll keep this a secret. It may make or break your career as a romance advisor: I saw that you absolutely hated being with that Lockhart guy. I don't blame you, I don't even know him and I already hate him."

Harry laughed, "Yeah, he's full of himself. I think he was trying to use me to make himself even more popular. By the way, I've never seen you before. Are you a first year?"

"Yup, I'm a first year." Harry looked confused. "What's wrong?"

"Well, usually most wizards who see me always babble on and on about how it's a pleasure to finally meet Harry Potter, it's an honor, can I have an autograph, blah blah blah. It gets tiresome after a while. I'm assuming you're a Muggle-born because your reaction is different."

"Muggle-born?"

"Muggles are non-magical people. So a Muggle-born is person whose parents can't do magic but their child can do magic.

"Yeah I am. I'm assuming you're famous for doing something very heroic."

"I'm not really sure if it was heroic. I was only a baby when the most powerful dark wizard, Voldemort, tried to kill me with a curse." Harry paused and was surprised to see look Gohan look at him impassively. Harry shook it off and continued: "I somehow repelled it, killing him with his own curse. I was only a baby, so I didn't know what I was doing. I find it hard to believe that I was heroic. I think I was luckier than I was heroic. And that also doesn't mean I'm automatically a wizard with great power just because of that event." Harry didn't know why, but he seemed to feel like he could trust Gohan even if he had just met him, and despite Gohan being disturbingly apathetic (everyone else he told was anything but apathetic). It was almost as if Gohan felt sorry for him somewhere deep inside, but he didn't show it.

Gohan easily emphasized with Harry. His experience with Raditz once again flashed through his mind. "I understand what you mean, Harry, because a similar thing has happened to me. No, I didn't fight off a dark wizard, like you did, to answer the question, but I did do something heroic when I had no control over myself. Unfortunately, we can't really do anything about what people think about us now. You just ignore what people say about you, pretend like you're not famous, and work hard to become better."

Harry grinned at Gohan. "That makes a lot of sense. That's probably the best piece of advice I've been given for quite a while. Thanks Gohan."

"You're welcome Harry. I don't have much time left and I need to find my books, so I hope to see you at the train in three days."

"Hopefully, and you can sit with me and my friends if you want to."

"I'd like to do that. See ya." Harry waved goodbye and left. While searching for his books, he thought about Harry. Harry seemed like a nice enough guy and kind of reminded Gohan of himself. They both had the burden of grand expectations placed on them, but Harry was famous for what he did, while in Gohan's case, no one besides his friends and family knew about his accomplishments. Gohan slowly got off the subject of Harry and dedicated himself to quickly finding his schoolbooks. After finding them, he scanned the store for any useful, more advanced books. Gohan was thirsty for knowledge so that he could quickly excel as a wizard and become powerful. He picked out several books ranging from wandless magic to becoming an animagus. Gohan collected all his books and shoved them at the clerk. The old woman looked irritated by Gohan's impolite action, but Gohan either didn't notice her fuming or just didn't care. She gave him the books and he gave her the money plus a nice compliment. "Great rack"

"Of books?"

"No, of... you know," Gohan cackled and quickly ran out of the store once she had turned livid. _I know that I made her day, the relic probably hasn't heard that one in centuries._

He glanced back and shrugged. He had one more place left to go: Ollivander's Wands. He hurried toward the store, excited about finally getting the object that would make the seemingly impossible possible.

Gohan took no notice of the shop's appearance and rushed in. An elderly man with frizzy grey hair greeted him. "Hello sir. I'm here looking for my wand, I'm..."

"Gohan Son. I am Mr. Ollivander. I knew you were coming and I was particularly interested in you since Dumbledore told me of you." The elderly man looked him over.

"What did Dumbledore tell you?"

Mr. Ollivander stared into Gohan's eyes, as if he was studying him, looking for something. "Dumbledore told me that you hold an immense power within you. When he first met you, it almost overwhelmed him, but Dumbledore strangely couldn't put a finger to what this power is. He told me he heard a rumor that a seer had made a prophecy concerning his meeting a boy like you who is special in some way. He didn't tell me what the prophecy was, however, because he didn't hear it himself, and just told me that you are very special."

Gohan kept his poise and refrained from looking shocked that Dumbledore felt his power and a seer had foreseen their meeting. Gohan didn't want Dumbledore to have any hints about his power because he knew that Dumbledore was very wise. Given a few hints, he'd probably slowly piece things together and discover Gohan's past. Something that Gohan wasn't sure about was whether the power Dumbledore felt was ki, magical, or both. Gohan reasoned that if it was just his ki energy, wouldn't Dumbledore have felt Vegeta's and Piccolo's powers?

Gohan looked back up at Ollivander. "Well, I'm not sure if I'm special, but I'd like to find a wand for me right now."

"Oh yes, of course. First, I'd like to tell you that you don't choose the wand, the wand chooses you. Now let me make the proper measurements." Ollivander measured Gohan from all angles, angles Gohan didn't even know could be measured. "I'll go get you a wand and you can try it out." Gohan tried out several wands, none of them worked out for him. A small puff of smoke or a tiny flicker was what usually happened. Once, Gohan accidentally blasted through the floor.

Gohan winced. "Sorry about that."

Ollivander chuckled. "It's okay, it's happened enough times to not be much of a shock. However, I'm quite surprised that I still haven't found a wand for you. Then again, maybe I should remember Dumbledore's words. You are unique. Maybe you need a unique wand to suit you." Ollivander went to the back of the store to get a wand.

When Ollivander came back, he showed Gohan the wand. Gohan noticed it had a deep purple coloring, and looked very different from the other wands he had tried out. Ollivander handed it to Gohan. Suddenly, a sense of warmth filled Gohan, as if a magical connection had just been established between him and the wand. He gave it a flick and beautiful blue sphere emerged. _This is my wand_.

"Interesting, I was losing hope that the wand would eventually choose someone. It's 12" and made of Purpleheart wood. Hippogriff talon makes up the core and the wand is supple yet powerful in the right hands and with the proper mindset. Here you go; I'm expecting great things from you Gohan."

Gohan nodded and thanked Mr. Ollivander. Gohan said goodbye and exited the shop. But the detail that the wand was powerful "in the right hands and with the proper mindset" kept bothering him for some reason. He wasn't sure what Ollivander had meant by that. He hated it when he was unsure. It would eat away at him until he finally figured it out, but he tried his best to dismiss it. Gohan had a feeling that he would someday find out what that Ollivander had meant.


	3. Contemplation R

Chapter III

Gohan's body was slick with sweat after his final sparring session, until winter break, with Vegeta and Piccolo. This time Vegeta and Piccolo gave everything they had, and were the closest they had ever been to beating Gohan. Gohan chuckled when he remembered Vegeta's Final Flash. Vegeta had put all his power in it to beat Gohan, right when it was going to hit, Gohan just grabbed it and threw it back at Vegeta. The look on Vegeta's face was priceless.

It had been the most physically draining sparring session in a long time; he decided to lie down to relax for a while. Nothing came to his mind for the first few minutes; his mind deserved a break from the amount thinking he had put it through. Unfortunately for him, he couldn't stop thinking. He had so many things on his mind.

Gohan knew he was changing. No one told him to his face, but he noticed it. He was snide, mocking, more obsessed with training. He felt that change was for his own good, so that he'd become stronger, wiser, more in control of himself. He needed control first for the power he sought. Currently, his potential was just that, not ability. Strong emotions allowed him to realize his potential. Emotions came and went, though, and his power just as quickly abandoned him. He hadn't been able to become a SSJ 2 since the Cell Games. Rationality had to be in command over his emotions to gain the great power he craved. Rationality was the commander, while emotions were the troops. His friends were worried about his attitude change. He was becoming more like Vegeta they often whispered when he turned away. Gohan admittedly saw the resemblance, but he liked to think that he was much less of a hothead. The comparison was acceptable, nevertheless. They were bothered by how quickly he had turned from being a carefree boy into a cold warrior. Without some control, he could easily become darker and do who knows what with his power. He was using brinkmanship, and balancing on a thin wire. He could easily fall off and change for the worse. He had some pretty damn good balance though.

He then thought back to Diagon Alley when he upset the old woman. Gohan admittedly regretted doing that because she hadn't exactly deserved it. Gohan wondered why he did that. The old him would never have done that and given her respect. _I'm acting a bit more like a prick I guess. Maybe I should act a little bit less like that. Just a little. I have to give people the respect they deserve. But why shouldn't I have as much fun as I want? Why should I care about their feelings? I saved their ass from Cell, for Kami's sake._

Next on his mental list was how he was going to train. Gohan had ravenously searched his books for anyway to conceal an energy signature. He knew Dumbledore would be able to feel him if he ever attempted to train. Unfortunately, he never found one spell to help him. He decided to try to pick up his father's ability of Instant Transmission. He would just teleport from Hogwarts every night to some far away place.

Gohan then mused on light magic and dark magic, which he had just read about. He had a feeling that light magic was only capable of so much. He reasoned that to attain true power, both were equally important. He also knew, however, that power could easily corrupt; he decided to be wary of straying to far into the realms of dark magic. He would not be close-minded though, and would accept some dark magic unless he saw that it was truly evil.

Finally, Gohan contemplated issues concerning his secret. Could he trust anyone with his secret? Would they even believe him? He wasn't sure about the latter, but he firmly said no to the former. It was unlikely that whom he would tell would treat him normally anymore. Who knows how the magical community would react if it leaked out. If they persecuted him, it was bad, if they tried to use him, it was also bad. If he became famous and lost all his privacy, it was worse. Gohan found it hard to believe that no one would care. _I can't get too close to anyone. I can't trust them too much. It doesn't mean I can't make friends though. It's not as easy as it sounds. Am I being overly cynical? Maybe. I will remain flexible but rational._

Gohan sighed. It seemed simple, don't put too much trust in someone, and don't make him or her get overly dependent on you or vice versa. He was smart enough to know otherwise. What was that question? Is it better to have loved and lost to have never loved at all? He would choose the former. It was easy to grow attached to someone, especially since he was naturally a warm and friendly person.

Gohan got up and decided to walk home. He wanted to enjoy what he wouldn't see for months. He remembered his first time training with Piccolo and surviving in the forest. He had come so far and the scared childish boy seemed so distant. From scholar to warrior, funny how life worked out. He was thrown a curve ball that he never had foreseen when Piccolo kidnapped him. Luckily, he hit it, avoiding the strike out. He was determined to hit this new curveball life threw at him out of the park.

He walked into the forest, mirth slowly bubbling up on his face. The summer light broke through the trees, giving the forest a heavenly glow. The turning aspen trees waved gently at him with the fresh breeze. The forest creatures were going through all their errands and welcomed him into their territory. The birds chirped sweetly. A weak humming was a constant in the auditory masterpiece the forest composed. The forest was the complete piece. He felt happy. How long had it been since Gohan felt so happy? The perpetual beauty of this forest always amazed him. It was remarkable how the forest calmed him, how it made him forget all his problems.

Hours passed without true perception of time as he walked through the heavenly path. The thickness of the forest subsided. He almost reluctantly trudged on; reality was slowly creeping back. Despite being a little sad, Gohan happily ran towards his house once he saw Hagrid's large figure. _Time to hit a homerun._


	4. Go Gohan! GO GO! Go Gohan! GO GO!

**Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ or HP.**

**Italics are now used for thoughts.**

* * *

The demi-saiyan stood outside while he talked with his mom

The demi-saiyan stood outside while he talked with his mom. Gohan wore sand brown pants, a white sweatshirt, a black t-shirt underneath, and black dress shoes. His black hair, as usual, defied gravity and pointed in several different horizontal directions. Nothing could tame a saiyan's hair.

As Gohan left home, he waved his final goodbyes to his mother and brother. Boy was he sure going to miss them. "Bye mom! Bye Goten! See you during the holidays!"

Chi-Chi waved back at him, her eyes gleaming with pride. "Bye Gohan! Be a good boy okay. Make sure to study hard too!"

"'Kay mom!"

Goten cutely waved at Gohan. "Bye bye Gohan!"

Hagrid heartily smiled at the warming scene he was witnessing. It always touched him whenever he saw such love among a family, something Hagrid had never experienced personally. He witnessed this several times when he helped new wizards and witches; it always held him spellbound and made him hopeful of a bright future for the world. If anyone asked him what his favorite part of his job was, he would say watching the exchange among a loving family.

When Gohan unwillingly tore himself from the sight of his loved ones, Hagrid noticed that Gohan's loving smile disappeared and an excited grin replaced it. "Well let's get going Hagrid! What are you waiting for?"

Hagrid smiled at Gohan. "Ahh Gohan, you're excited aren't you."

Gohan shrugged but then smirked. "No I'm pissed off Captain Obvious," his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Someone is a teaser."

"Oh, I wonder who that may be. Maybe we should silence him with our magical powers before he emotionally scars someone. Oh woe the next person that catches that monster in a bad mood. Psss... I've heard rumors that someone is pissing him off right now. He's tall, scruffy, and has A LOT of hair. Jeez I wonder who that idiot is?" Gohan **innocently **asked.

"Haha... Yah... what an idiot!" Hagrid trailed off. He took a glance at the young saiyan and uneasily said, "Okay Gohan I think it's time to go! Touch Professor McGonagall's pink polka dot bra..." Gohan raised an eyebrow at him, and then Hagrid's face then lost its usual pink color. "I m-mean... the bra I conveniently found lying outside my hut after... a wild night... with my pet dragon Smith... haha... yah... I didn't sneak into the Professor's quarters undetected and steal her bra..."

Gohan shook his head. He knew Hagrid had some quirks but he didn't know Hagrid rolled that way. Dragons huh? Now how was that sexy? Gohan reasoned that it was more plausible that Hagrid was a schizophrenic lingerie thief rather than a guy who engaged in sexual activity with dragons. Gohan shuffled his feet, clearly uncomfortable. "How about we get going to the King Cross Station?"

Hagrid nodded, happy to not delve any deeper into the conversation. "By the way, don't mention this to anyone. If this gets out, who knows what McGonagall would do to me!" Hagrid shuddered as a possibility crossed his mind. The last time McGonagall was absolutely livid, well let's say the poor guy was in a coma for a year and coincidentally lost his children-bearing powers. McGonagall said she had nothing to do with the latter, but of course, anyone with half a brain knew that was far from the truth. Then again, Dumbledore absolutely believed her and Hagrid was pretty sure that Dumbledore wasn't missing any of his brain. At least that's what he thought.

Gohan look at him innocently. _So it is McGonagall_. "Oh whatever are you talking about Hagrid?"

"You no darn well what I'm talking about Gohan." Hagrid gruffly replied.

"Whatever it is, I'm sure it can't slip out because I am completely oblivious to what you're talking about. Now if I remember... ho ho ho... That might be a different matter all together... it might slip out... unless I get some... favors in return." Gohan smirked.

Hagrid glared at the sadist and affirmed that Gohan was one evil boy. He then got onto his knees and pleaded. "Pleeeeeeeeeeease! I'll do anything!"

Gohan was taking a sadistic pleasure in this. _I think I should do this more often hehe..._ "When I ask for a favor, you will immediately comply with my demands or that little piece of information that I can't seem to recall will slip out on the same day you refuse my demands as I just might coincidentally remember that little piece of **embarrassing **information," Gohan drawled. Hagrid firmly nodded.

"Anything! I'll do it. Now since that's been cleared up... err... let's go to the station... come on Gohan touch the pink polka notprofessormcgonagalls bra..." Gohan cringed a little and reluctantly touched it. He would make sure that as soon as possible he would give his left hand a lot of much needed attention plus a long steamy bath.

They disappeared and reappeared at the station. Gohan still wasn't used to the unorthodox form of travel, and got up somewhat dazed. "I see London, I see France, I see Videl's underpants." Hagrid looked at him warily then glanced towards where Gohan held his gaze. Hagrid saw a dark haired young girl and two other blonde children standing by her. Indeed, you could see underpants, which caused Hagrid to tear away his glance.

"Gohan that's not polite. Stop lookin!" Hagrid slapped Gohan's face, but instead Hagrid's face was the one squinting with pain. 'What the hell is this kid made out of? It was like slapping a brick wall.'

Gohan paid no attention to Hagrid and kept on staring with an evil smile on his face. _I've got to admit, she sure wears some badass undies. Damn look at that crazy katana and the dislodged head. That's awesome. Maybe I could get her to tell me where to buy those boxers, then again, mom would kill me if she ever saw them. _"This is priceless! This is why I bought a camera at Diagon Alley!"

"What?! Are you going to show that picture to the school? Isn't it mean showing off a picture like that to the entire school?" Hagrid had an empathetic look on his face when he looked back at the girl in solicitude. He sure as hell knew what she was going to go through.

"Of course not silly nilly Hagrid. Why would I do that? I'm sure if she willingly submits to me, we can work something out. Now if things just can't seem to work out... ho ho ho... that's an entirely different situation indeed..." Gohan's eyes glimmered as he talked.

Hagrid sighed. He would at least try to reason with Gohan to save the poor girl from the sadistic saiyan's wrath. "Now Gohan that's not very nice. Don't do it!" Gohan raised his camera, preparing to take a picture. "NO!" Hagrid swiftly took a swipe at the silver camera.

Gohan looked up at him and pouted. "You're ruining all the fun! You're such a party-pooper." Hagrid looked taken back at the words 'party-pooper'.

"Hey! Take that back. I'm no party-pooper. Hell, I throw the wildest parties in the wizarding world. Lingerie is flying all over the place and damn, we dance to the beat of the music all night long. Dragons, spiders, trolls, sexy witches, you name it, all there."

Gohan curiously looked at Hagrid and raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Really really!" Hagrid proudly exclaimed.

"Well I'm sure such a fun guy like you wouldn't mind me having a little bit of my own fun? You wouldn't want be a party-pooper." Gohan slyly remarked.

Hagrid looked insulted. "Of course not, what do you take me for, some scar-head nerd marked as the dark lord's equal who managed to save the wizarding world from destruction who knows nothing about the meaning off chillax?"

"Well, seeing that you're such a wild beast, maybe you won't ruin my party if you know what I mean. So I'm just going to take a picture of that girl right there. Mkay?" Hagrid smiled back.

"Sure! I mean, I don't want to crash your party." Gohan leered evilly, raised his camera, and snapped a picture of the raven-haired girl's violent undies, and he cackled with glee.

Hagrid smacked his face when he realized the trick. "Damn my stupid party pride! I was tricked into thinking that I was a party-pooper just for not allowing one damn picture!

Gohan acted naively. "Oh whatever made you think that silly nilly Hagrid?"

Hagrid glowered at him. "I'm sure I don't have to be Captain Obvious."

Gohan smirked. "You're finally getting it you old bean. By the way Hagrid, I think I need a small, incy-bit favor from you." Gohan snickered when he saw Hagrid pale.

"Whatever is it Mr.Son?" Hagrid grumbled.

Gohan had him right were he wanted. "Well, it's about that wild party I heard you talk about." Gohan's grin grew when he saw Hagrid pale even further. "Since you're indebted to me for some reason I can't really recall..." Hagrid snorted at this. "I would like to use my special privilege..." Hagrid snorted again. "to be allowed to attend your parties."

Hagrid shook his head and finger at Gohan ready to lecture the boy. "No Gohan. You ain't mature enough for my parties. You have to be 18 or older to attend."

Gohan chuckled. "Really now? I'm starting to recall something about a bra... as a portkey... it happened to be a pink polka dot bra to be specific. 36c... and it happened to belong to a Professor McGonagall. Does that ring a bell?"

Hagrid sighed and frowned at Gohan. "Whatever kid. You can go to my blasted parties."

Gohan smiled triumphantly. "Oh thank you teddy bear Hagrid! I knew you couldn't let your most loved student left out in the dust," he gleefully exclaimed.

Hagrid rolled his eyes. "Right, I couldn't leave my lovable student out in the dust. As much as I enjoyed being blackmailed and witnessing the beginning of a monster, I have to get going to some important business. See you later Gohan!" Hagrid waved and then trotted off.

"See you later teddy bear Hagrid!" Gohan cheered. His enhanced saiyan hearing allowed him to hear Hagrid grumble something about cruel wicked kids these days. Gohan just chuckled at that. _And it's just the beginning. This sure is fun! _

Gohan walked past the different stations while looking at his paper. _Platform 9 ¾? Isn't that odd. _He walked past platform 9 and 10. His face crumpled and formed a confused expression, musing about what to do. _Maybe all of this really was an elaborate hoax. _

Immediately after saying that, he saw a couple and two children with their trunks run straight through Platform 9's pillar. Gohan was startled at this. _That's pretty weird. Guess I have to do that too. Hey, at least I'm carrying my stuff around in capsules. Well here goes nothing._

Gohan jogged at the pillar, half-expecting to feel his forehead crack the stone, but instead just felt nothing. His ears shot up at the new sound of loud chatter and then Gohan opened his eyes to meet the sight of children and parents waving their goodbyes. Pleased with the lack of an impact, he decided to get onto the train. The ruby colored train was not that large and it was rather dull, but looked nice nonetheless.

Gohan got onto the train and strolled through the long corridor; his back straight with a confident stride. Many of the compartments were full while some were empty he was looking for his new friend, Harry Potter.

Towards the end of the train, he looked towards his left hand side to meet the emerald eyes of the boy-who-lived. They boys both grinned at the sight of each other. "Hey Harry! It's been a while since last seeing you. How've you been?" Gohan looked at the people around Harry, a girl with bushy hair, three redheaded boys, a red haired girl, and a shy looking round faced boy.

"Great! You?" Harry's eyes kept a firm gaze.

"Pretty good. I see you have some other friends here. Care to introduce them?" Gohan looked curiously at each of them, noticing that when he looked at the redhead girl a blush crept up on her face.

Harry turned his body side-ways, keeping the proper posture to motion to his friends to introduce themselves to Gohan.

The bushy haired girl complied first. "I'm Hermione."

"Pleased to meet you Hermione, I'm Gohan." Gohan extended out his hand, much to Hermione's surprise. Hermione regained her composure and gently shook his hand.

The younger looking (compared to the other redhead boys) redhead boy then introduced himself. "I'm Ron."

The twin fireballs then introduced themselves. "I'm Fred...

"I'm George"

"But sometimes..."

"He's George..."

"He's Fred..."

"We..."

"Are..."

"The school's..."

"Worst..."

"Nightmare..."

"Our pranks..."

"Are unmatched..."

Gohan chuckled at the twins. He was already sure that they were very funny guys and that's exactly what he needed, a good laugh. "Woah, woah, umatched huh? We'll see about that." Gohan noticed Hermione's face turn grim and Ron look at him unbelievingly.

"Amazing brother..."  
"dear of mine..."  
"Someone..."

"Willing to go up against us..."

"We salute you..."

"For your bravery..."  
"You stud you."

"Thank you general, I am greatly honored," Gohan said with a mocking voice. Gohan then shifted his gaze towards the round faced boy.

"I'm Neville." Gohan shook his hand. He then turned around to look at redhead girl, surely related to the three other redheads. As he gazed at her patiently, her face turned several different shades of red darker and she trained her eyes onto the floor. Gohan heard Fred and George snicker.

"Snap out of it..."  
"Dearest sister of ours..."  
"You're making us..."  
"Look...

"Bad..." The twins both looked at her with mock disapproval.

Apparently she listened to them and squeaked out, "I'm Ginny." She immediately tore her face away from him and looked out the window, her face red as ever.

_What a strange girl. Where do I remember seeing that type of red coloring creeping up on someone's face? Oh yah, Mirai Trunk's chick flicks. _Gohan rolled his eyes.

Fred whispered to Gohan. "The only person that gives her nilly willies like that is Harry. Consider yourself in the club." Gohan chuckled quietly.

"Well then, maybe I should try to talk to her to get rid of her jitters."

Fred looked at him, clearly impressed. "Torturing my lil sis huh? I guess that will help her overcome her sudden social ineptitude around you and Harry."

Gohan nodded, and turned away from Fred. He glanced over to Ginny and saw her hurriedly rip her gaze on him and turn several different shades of red that Gohan didn't know even were in existence. As his new acquaintances chatted around him, he tried to have a decent conversation with Ginny. Tried is the key word because she could barely open her mouth to say a word and her constant redness (everywhere) was starting to burn his eyes. Gohan sighed and turned away as Ginny put her hands on her face and turned away from him.

_Whatever. Damn I didn't know a human could look so much like a tomato. Mmm... tomato... tomato pasta sauce... with ten dishes of spaghetti, fifty meatballs, and twenty pieces of garlic bread... yum..._

Harry looked at his friend as Gohan's eyes glazed over just like the talk they had about the Swedish Women Volley Ball team (that very night Harry had his first ever blissful night of dreaming). "Hey Gohan, what's wrong?"

Gohan snapped out of his food daydream. "Nothing, just thinking about food. Well I guess I'm really hungry. Anyway to get food here?"

Hermione jumped in. "A trolley comes here with several types of chocolate to eat. In fact, it's just came."

Gohan nearly jumped at the woman attending them. "I'll have all of it!" Everyone sweat dropped.

The lady attending him cleared her voice and frowned at him. "I'm afraid you can't do that young man. The other students need food to."

Gohan pouted and gave her the puppy dog eyes. "I'm sure they can wait Ms. I'm famished and in dire need of food. I'm a beautiful, kind, young woman like you would save me from my starvation." Gohan smirked on the inside when he saw the woman's expression soften.

"Oh, well I'm sure they can wait a few more hours before eating. If you have the money, I'll be pleased let you buy it all," the woman softly told him.

Gohan's face brightened up. "Really? Thank you Ms. I really appreciate it." He gave her the money and bought all the candy.

Gohan dug into his candy mountain, completely ravaging the mountain. Everyone marveled at his appetite but Hermione was repulsed by his terrible manners. "That's disgusting! At least show some decency!" Hermione scolded.

"I can't hear you." Gohan lied. "Stop yapping anyway, I want to concentrate on eating."

Hermione turned bright red, out of ferocity, and looked like she was going to choke him. Gohan looked up at her and glibly remarked, "Wow Hermione, how'd you put all that make up on all the sudden? Must be magic. I have to admit, that look suits you very well. I think you should keep it, the red face fits your eyes very well."

Hermione huffed while the boys began to snicker. "Oh the nerve! To think that I actually thought that you were polite. Ha!" She crossed her arms and glared at him with vehemence.

The saiyan just ignored her while he continued stuffing his face with chocolate. Ginny snapping out of her state of complete awe of Gohan's cuteness, now was in complete awe of Gohan's eating habits. Her mouth stayed slightly agape as Gohan tore through the chocolate mountain.

As they made there way to Hogwarts, they all had a good time conversing. Gohan told them many things about his home, all of his new friends curious about the country life. Harry told Gohan about his background, that his parents had been killed by Voldemort, that he had to live with his terrible relatives, and about his first year at Hogwarts.

Hermione warmed up to Gohan despite the recent incident, and she was delighted that finally there was someone as ambitious about knowledge as her. "It's good to know that someone here isn't a lazy prat who doesn't listen in class," she remarked as she looked at Ron.

"Hey! It's not my fault the teachers are boring and the text books aren't exactly fun."

Gohan smirked at him. "You know Wonny Ronny..." Ron sent a glare towards Gohan. Gohan paid no attention to it and continued, "studying isn't always fun. Hell, life isn't always fun so that's not a valid excuse Wonny Ronny."

Ron huffed. "I can't come up with even one valid reason to listen to know-it-alls like you, so why should I?"

Gohan glanced at Hermione who was looking rather irritated. It probably wouldn't be best that Hermione answered back. Hermione was about to reply until Gohan motioned her to stop. Surprisingly, Hermione complied.

Calmly, Gohan replied, "Just because you can't come up with a reason not to listen to us, it doesn't mean that there isn't a reason to listen to us." Ron glared at him, about to open his mouth when he realized he couldn't refute him. Ron could've taken the 'I'm innocent till proven guilty' stance but he had a feeling that the nerd duo would easily shoot him down. Therefore, he proceeded to ignore Gohan and Hermione.

Gohan smirked at Ron and then stared out the window, admiring the almost celestial beauty of the mountains. He sighed, as he looked out at the magnificent crystal lake that slept unperturbed by outsiders. The sunshine gave the lake an even more magnificent appearance, as if the lake was radiating brilliance. Gohan's splendor gave him a starry dazed appearance, as he stayed transfixed on the sight before him. It's interesting that the fantastic display only lasted a few seconds. Time seemed to stand still for those few magnificent moments however. Gohan's natural fighting skills helped extend the few seconds to several moments.

Once the train blurred past the celestial scene, Gohan turned his head to look at his new friends. They seemed like decent people. He had just met them and he already was affable with them, and felt no frustration with them. He sighed when he realized that if any of them began to question him about his past, he would have to either not say anything or lie. If Hermione started to question him, he would be in for one hell of a ride.

After a few more minutes, the train came to a sudden stop and the driver confirmed that they had arrived at Hogwarts. Gohan noticed all his friends light up a bit and the previous blanket of silence covering the train was ripped, giving way to excited chatter among friends.

Young wizards and witches hurriedly shoved to get outside. Once Gohan and his friends made their way through, the volume of the chatting reduced a notch.

Harry, standing next to the saiyan, informed him that he had to go on the boats with the first years.

"Really? Well I guess I've got to leave, see you guys later. It's been great meeting all of you, and I hope we can stay in touch all year." They said their goodbyes and Gohan motioned to Ginny. "Come on Ginny, let's go."

Ginny looked startled and then blushed madly while walking towards him with her gaze firmly fixed on the ground. Gohan scratched the back of his head, the Son way, without the grin but with a chuckle at the sight before him.

They walked together in an awkward silence, away from the other first-years, and towards the small boats. Gohan broke the eerie silence. "Ginny, there's no need to be nervous around me. I mean, it'd be better if you weren't so embarrassed to talk to me. Come on, have some fun, I won't think your stupid or something."

Ginny's face lit up a bit, and her lips formed a small smile. She raised her head slightly; her blush diminished a bit, and she clearly was more confident. "That's exactly what I was afraid of. I didn't want to make a bad impression on you, so I guess that kept me constantly tongue-tied. I would think of saying something, but then my mind nagged me that you would think it's stupid."

Gohan smiled at her. "Just stay relaxed around me Ginny. Don't think too much into things. By the way, your brother told me that you only act this way around me and Harry. Why do you care so much about what we think of you before getting to know us?"

Ginny blushed madly again and seemed to be more interested in the rocks' features rather than boy standing in front of her. Gohan cocked an eyebrow at this reaction. "Well, Harry is the boy-who-lived... and you're really..." She paused for a moment, clearly fighting a mental battle. A mental battle Gohan wasn't sure about until he remembered the chick flicks Mirai Trunks forced him to watch. "Cute." Gohan blushed a bit too and since he was not exactly an expert, he was tongue-tied.

If Mirai Trunks was watching Gohan, he'd probably be deeply disappointed in his pupil and would say something along the lines, 'I took you under my romance wing for nothing? Come on Gohan! Why do you think I made you watch all those chick flicks? To make you learn.'

_Screw Trunks! It's not like a dealing with hormone crazed girls. We're 11 for Kami's sake! _"Umm... thanks Ginny. I think you're pretty cute too."

Ginny's face glowed, thrilled about his approval of her. "Really?" she whispered, looking at him dreamily.

Gohan awkwardly chuckled. "Really Ginny." Ginny giggled and hugged him tightly. Gohan was slightly taken back by her reaction, and it took a few seconds realize what was happening and hug her back. _This feels pretty good. She feels nice and warm. Hugging a girl is pretty cool._

**In some other timeline... **

"What the hell are you doing Gohan? Talk to her!" the wet Mirai Trunks screamed at his magical See-Gohan-Whenever-He-Is-Having-A-Possibly-Romantic-Moment ball . Trunks was taking a shower when his magical ball (maybe it wasn't magic because Bulma made it) started acting up. He heard a distinct screech that he knew could only be produced by his magical ball. Excited, he ran out of the shower naked and went into his room were the ball was. He plopped onto his couch and watched the ball convert into a large theater screen. And here he was, watching Gohan's first ever romantic experience.

Trunks groaned at the perpetual silence. _Well hey, I've got to hand it to Gohan, not only is she a cute girl (not that I'm a pedo)but also I didn't expect some action from this baby _(the magical ball) _until a couple of more years. Well, at least not until Gohan hit puberty._

Trunks scrunched his face a bit when he spotted something on Gohan's upper lip. He walked up close to the large screen and squinted his eyes even more. "What's that? Is that some hair I see? OH MY KAMI GOHAN'S GROWING FACIAL HAIR!! My great friend is growing up so fast," Trunks said in a motherly tone, while repressing a couple of tears.

Trunks happily sighed and plopped back onto his pink heart-shaped couch. He then balled his hand into a fist and exasperated at the screen. "What are you waiting for Gohan! HER? I'VE TAUGHT YOU BETTER THAN THAT! YOU SHOULD KNOW THAT THE GUY MAKES THE FIRST DAMN MOVE!"

As if Gohan had actually heard him, Gohan told Ginny to stop being embarrassed about speaking with him. Trunks was still pissed off but relieved. "The man speaks! Finally, thank Kami. I was going to get a heart attack and it'd be all his fault. Gohan Son vs Trunks Briefs, what a case. Surely he'd be guilty." Trunks then looked at Ginny's reaction. Upon seeing Ginny smile, Trunks yelled victoriously. "Oh you sly dog you. Where did you learn those smooth moves huh? From the suave Trunks Briefs of course!"

Trunks continued excitedly watching the exchange, cheering on Gohan while doing so. "Give me a G! Give me an O! Give me an H! Give me an A! Give me an N! What's that spell? GOHAN!!"

The two children continued to converse. "You tell her Gohan! Don't get nervous around me!" When Gohan asked her why she was so nervous around him and a boy named Harry, Trunks asked the same. "Yah why do you act like that huh little girl? Oh wait," Trunks smacked his face. "Duh Trunks Briefs. What a stupid question. Wait," Trunks smacked the visual of Gohan. "GOHAN SON! I'VE TAUGHT YOU BETTER!" The disappointed saiyan calmed himself a bit, and proceeded to listen.

After Ginny told Gohan he was cute, Trunks face became ecstatic. "HAHA! I KNEW IT! GOHAN YOU OWE ME ONE! If it weren't for me, she wouldn't have said that. It's all the work of the suave Trunks Brief. I should start selling advice books for these things."

Trunks ecstatic look quickly turned into one of disgust, as he heard nothing coming from the T.V. "WHAT ARE YOU WATING FOR GOHAN! I TAUGHT YOU BETTER THAN THAT! YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO GO IN FOR THE KAMI DAMN KILL! KISS THE F-ing GIRL ALREADY!"

Trunks ferocity quickly shifted back to an approving mood after Gohan gave Ginny a compliment. "Ahh playing the wily old fox aren't you? I could've done better but you did decent enough Gohan.

When Trunks saw Ginny hug Gohan, he exploded with glee. "Alright Gohan you've got her in the bag! Next year, a little more directness and she's in your bed. You've made me a proud man Gohan." Trunks broke down and started shedding tears of pride.

**Back in the other timeline... **

A blonde girl tapped a raven-haired girl's shoulder. "Hey Videl, look over there." She pointed at the scene of two children hugging.

"Isn't that cute?" The blond girl sighed dreamily.

Videl shrugged and moved her gaze to the two kids. "Sure Erasa, cute," Videl drawled.

"And look at that guy, he's a real cutie." Erasa squealed. Videl rolled her eyes at Erasa's reaction. Her friend was probably the first girl she knew that began to think that all guys weren't jerks and could actually be cute. Videl on the other hand, thought all guys were a bunch of jerks, especially her friend standing to next to her, Sharpener.

Sharpener sneered. "Ha, he's probably a dweeb!"

Videl decided to look back at the two kids. She looked at the dark-haired boy, certain that she had seen him before. _Where have I seen that guy? _She was deep in though for a few moments.

She snapped her head back. "That's it!"

"What's it?" Erasa and Sharpener asked in unison.

Videl glared at the boy. "That's the jerk I met at the ice cream parlor!"

Erasa tilted her head and kept her gaze at the boy. "Are you sure he's that bad Videl? I mean, from what you've told me, it seems that he just snapped at you because you snapped at him first."

Videl turned her glare to her friend. "Yes Erasa, he's a total jerk, he insulted my father, the man who saved the world from Cell."

"But didn't you start it?"

"I didn't want his company and he kept on pushing me. Then he got pissed off that I didn't want to talk to him and attacked me to comfort his hurt pride," Videl hissed.

Erasa sighed, knowing that there was no use trying to argue with her friend.

Sharpener smirked and slightly tilted his head towards Videl. "Hey Videl, want me to take care of the dweeb for you?"

Videl put her hands on her hips and kept turned glare towards Sharpener. "Pfff, like I need your help Sharpener. I could take that guy out if I wanted to."

Erasa looked at Videl and Sharpener disapprovingly. She sighed again, and looked back at the saiyan solicitously.

Gohan and Ginny broke off their hug when they heard Hagrid's voice call all the kids to get into the boats. Ginny looked up at Gohan with a kind smile. Gohan looked down at her face and as she talked to him about hurrying up to get into the boats, he actually took her features in. She had beautiful bright brown eyes, a few freckles, long eyelashes, and lengthy flaming red hair. _She is very pretty. We're kind young, but why not ask her out? It'll be just an innocent bond. And a lot of hugs. I like her hugs. _

Once Ginny stopped talking, she grabbed Gohan's hand to follow her. _Her hand is nice and warm too. _

They arrived at the boats and Hagrid told them to all get in. Gohan waved at Hagrid, who was several feet away at the other boats. "Hi Hagrid!"

Hagrid paled a little but then chuckled. "Hi Gohan! I'm glad to see you!"

Gohan kept his grip on Ginny's hand and motioned to her with his free hand to get into the boat. Ginny blushed at his politeness and whispered a thank you. Gohan helped Ginny in and got in himself while maintaining his hold on Ginny's hand. "Gohan you can let go of my hand now. It's okay."

Gohan shook his head and looked at Ginny. "No Ginny, I like holding your hand. It feels very comforting." Ginny turned a bright crimson. _She looks cute when she blushes. _

Since all the students fit onto the other boats, Gohan and Ginny were left alone in their boat. The boats magically floated off, carrying them towards Hogwarts. Ginny laid her head on Gohan's shoulder and sighed at the beautiful scene that met their vision.

The large sea rocks provided the foundation of a grand castle. The majestic castle's splendor increased as golden lights graced many parts of the castle. The castle's intricate designs visible at a distance backed up the original observations of castle's regality. The dark water beneath them shimmered, reflecting the moon's light. The water swayed at the multiple disturbances throughout the water and at the wooden creations floating through it. The dark sky was filled with stars, small twinkling pockets of the divine sky.

Keeping her head on Gohan's shoulder along with her gaze at the magnificent scene, she spoke to Gohan. "This is beautiful. Ever since Percy went to Hogwarts, I've always been so eager about going to Hogwarts. I've even dreamt about the boat ride here. It always looked so beautiful, but I never would've of imagined that it would look so heavenly." She smiled and sighed again.

Gohan smiled at the girl lying on his shoulder. "It's incredible. I've never seen anything like it, well, besides you Ginny."

Ginny quickly turned to face Gohan. "Gohan, that's very sweet but I think it's an overstatement."

Gohan shook his head. "No it isn't Ginny, it's the truth." Ginny's eyes sparkled. "Umm... I'd like to ask you Ginny if... you want to my girlfriend." Ginny gasped, clearly not expecting Gohan say that.

Gohan wasn't sure what to think. He wasn't experienced in this type of thing. Even if Mirai Trunks knew a lot about girls, even he wasn't entirely sure about the reactions that meant acceptance or rejection.

"Really?" Ginny asked, hoping that this wasn't some cruel joke that her brothers had come up with.

Gohan grinned at her. "Really really Gin!"

Ginny's beamed at Gohan and jumped into his arms. "Oh Gohan! Of course I'll be your girlfriend!"

Gohan felt cheerful and hugged Ginny back. _Yay hugs! I like her hugs. _Ginny nuzzled his chest and the new couple stayed in that position until the boat ride was over.

They walked up the steps with the other first-years until they stood just outside the castle, facing a stern looking woman who introduced herself as 'Professor McGonagall'. She told them to keep still in an orderly line in order to be sorted.

Gohan and Ginny were talking about their lives back home until someone rudely bumped into Gohan. "Get out of the way twerp! You're in the way of royalty!" Gohan turned away from Ginny to glare at the uncouth boy.

Gohan turned around and looked at the boy. The boy had short, spiked up brown hair, and was about Gohan's height. His robes looked very luxurious, and had a French flag on the right corner of it. He had a tanned face with pompous expression and piercing silver eyes. The kid's pompous expression irritated Gohan. Gohan glared intensely at the kid and icily replied. "What god-given right do you have for cutting in line?"

The boy pointed to the flag. "You see this flag here? If you aren't as stupid as I think you are then you would know that this is the French flag. Only French Royalty is allowed to carry this flag, so I'm obviously French Royalty! My name is Prince Zayden James, and since I'm royalty I can do whatever I want to you peasants." Zayden sneered at Gohan and then smirked as some of the first-years marveled at Zayden's royal status.

"Peasant we are not! I am Gohan Son and you will refer to me by my name. You think that just because you're royalty you can walk all over me, don't you? Well kid, I don't care if you're royalty because to me, you're just some pompous big-headed prick craving attention you're parents never gave you." Gohan clearly struck a chord when he talked about Zayden's parents. _I knew it. _

Zayden hissed at him. "You won't get away with insulting me Son! You'll wish you never crossed me! Out of my way now." He pushed Gohan again.

Gohan stood his ground firmly. "Hell no, I'm not moving."

Zayden glowered at him struck Gohan's stomach. Gohan smirked when Zayden howled in pain, the prince complaining that it was like hitting a brick wall. "Not so strong are you Prince James?" Zayden glared at Gohan and said nothing, turning away to conspire with his friends.

Gohan paid no attention to Zayden; after all, he seemed like no threat whatsoever. He was just an annoying bug waiting to be crushed.

Ginny looked at Gohan proudly. "You were great Gohan."

Gohan grinned at her. "It was nothing Gin. It's not hard making a rat face like him go away." Ginny giggled and nodded. Gohan was then caught off guard when she got on her tiptoes and pecked him on his lips. Gohan blushed and did the famous Son grin.

Ginny giggled again and whispered into his ear, "You're cute." Gohan blushed even brighter and scratched the back of his head. He could've sworn he heard Mirai Trunks somewhere.

**In another timeline...**

**  
**"Go Gohan! GO GO! Go Gohan! GO GO!"

**In the usual timeline... **

"Weasley, Ginny!" Professor McGonagall called for the sorting.

Ginny walked down the long path to the sorting hat. "GRYFFINDOR!" It immediately yelled out. Gohan was amused at the Weasley twins' cheering and high-fives being thrown out everywhere. Gohan then mused about his house placement. He recalled his chat with his friends about the houses of Hogwarts. His friends were all in Gryffindor, but he wasn't sure if he himself would fit in that house. From what he had read, it seemed like Gryffindors were more rash then the other houses and took unnecessary risks when some thinking would have been better. Ravenclaw appealed to him because the house represented the ideals of wisdom, intelligence, and creativity and many Ravenclaws still had some Gryffindor traits. Hufflepuff represented loyalty and tolerance but it seemed like they were the most likely to be lacking in courage.

Then Gohan thought about the wild card, Slytherin. Gohan chuckled when he remembered the rant Ron went on and on about Slytherins. 'They're all good for nothings,' 'they're all in cahoots and support the Dark Lord,' 'they're all slimy gits'. Gohan was never a fan of such generalizations, and shut Ron out as he continued to rant. The saiyan's reading taught him the basic ideals of the Slytherin house. He had to admit that it sounded very appealing. The Slytherin House valued resourcefulness, craftiness, pure-blood heritage (this put Gohan off a bit), and most importantly to Gohan, ambition. The Saiyan blood running through Gohan's veins made him naturally ambitious. Very ambitious. _What else can I call myself when I'm wanting so a great power? I'm obviously ambitious. _He had feeling that Slytherin was the right house for him, but Ginny being put in the rival house put him off somewhat. _If she really likes me then houses shouldn't matter to her _Gohan reasoned.

Immediately after the completion of his reflection, Professor McGonagall yelled out "Son, Gohan!" Gohan confidently took strides towards the hat.

_**Ah, look what we have here. A truly unique one. A saiyan? Very interesting. **_

Gohan stifled a gasp, not wanting to draw attention onto himself. _How do you know I'm a saiyan? _

The hat chuckled. _**I can read your mind Gohan. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone. **_Gohan relaxed and sighed.

_Thank you._

_**You're welcome. Hmm... You've built a great deal of courage from your dealings with the monster Cell and you are extremely loyal. Good traits for a Gryffindor. You're also the most intelligent child I've ever sorted! Truly remarkable. Maybe just that should put you in Ravenclaw. What's this? You have a cunning mind don't you?. And the ambition! What ambition! It would be a crime not to tell you that you could do incredible things in Slytherin.**_

_Then put me in Slytherin._

_**Very well, I'm glad you accepted because now I can say this, you will become a legend.**_

Gohan smirked. He liked the sound of that.

"SLYTHERIN!"


	5. Ginny's Knight vs Satan's Spawn

The Slytherins cheered for their new housemate

The Slytherins cheered for their new housemate. Gohan however, couldn't keep himself from noticing the icy glares being thrown at him by the other three houses, especially Gryffindor. The demi-saiyan shrugged it off though, reasoning that they had no reason to look down upon him before even getting to know him.

As Gohan paced himself down to the Slytherin table, he attempted to pick out particular faces from the sea of glares. After a few seconds, he successfully singled out his friends (if they still were his friends). Ginny and Neville gave him an uneasy smile; the Weasley twins were taken back at the announcement and raised their eyebrows at Gohan; Harry carried an unreadable expression on his face. Gohan was relieved that they weren't exactly gnashing their teeth at him. At least _they_ weren't, Ron and Hermione where an entirely different matter.

The two of them shot him a fiery glare, looking as if they were trying to kill him by eviscerating him on the spot with the intensity of their gaze. They then turned to Harry, clearly wanting to spew out their vindictive feelings about the new Slytherin. Gohan focused in a little and heard Ron say, "Harry, we can't trust that guy! Let's just tell the git to leave us alone and never again even come near us!"

"Ron maybe..."

"Hey Gohan, over here! You can sit with me!" Gohan mentally cursed at the olive colored boy who beckoned for him. The Saiyan was extremely interested in what Harry was saying about him. Gohan sighed and kept on walking towards the Slytherin table, trying his best to appear unperturbed.

Gohan sat down next to the olive colored boy. The boy had long, straight, brown hair, azure eyes, and a proud look permanently etched onto his face. "Hey dude, my name's Andres Pires," the boy quietly greeted him with a small Spanish accent.

Gohan acknowledged the boy with a slight nod. "Hi Andres, I take it you're not from Britain?"

Andres nodded. "I'm from Spain, but they don't have good magical schools over there, so my parents coughed up some dough and got me in here. My parents also are the most famous Curse Breakers in the world, which of course made it even easier for me to get in. What school would turn down the son of the famous Pires family who is aspiring to become an even greater Curse Breaker than his parents?"

Gohan shrugged his shoulders. "Beats me."

"And where are you from? It's clear to me that you're not British either."

"Japan."

A sly smile encroached Andres features. "Really? So how are the Japanese girls? I've heard their pretty hot."

Gohan chuckled, breaking his apathetic aura. "Don't beat me up to much for this, but I've got to be honest and tell you that I've barely talked to girls in my life or even seen other girls who aren't at least three times my age."

Andres looked at him as if he was an abomination to the normal world. "What's wrong with you man? Dude, come on, you have to go out to enjoy the beautiful world of girls. Maybe I'm an early starter but still, how can you be so unexposed?"

Gohan gave Andres the famous Son grin. "Well, I guess I've just been too unlucky all my life. You see, I live far away from the city, about 600 miles from it in the mountain area. I've been home-schooled all my life by mom so I've never really had the chance to experience the beautiful world of girls as you put it."

Andres looked at him sympathetically. "That's awful! I can't imagine living like that, no one around my age near me, oh the horror!" Andres shuddered intensely, and proceeded to act melodramatically.

Gohan laughed softly at his reaction. "Nah, it's not that bad. Every once in a while I get pretty bored but nature sure has gifts of her own. It's breathtaking when you take the time to explore the area. If I didn't know that magic existed, I would say that the forest and mountains were the most magical places on earth because it's incredible out there. I'm not sure if you can imagine it, but just take my word for it."

Andres bobbed his head and gave him a knowing smile. "Dude, I sure can imagine it. My parents took me to one of their safer Curse Breaking missions in the Japanese mountains and just like you said, I couldn't even breathe when I first saw it. Hell, I was turning purple until my parents started shaking me and demanding that I started breathing or else."

Gohan grinned at the Spanish boy. "I didn't mean it literally!" Gohan chuckled. "Hey, but which mountain area where you in?" If it was where he lived, Gohan would have to conduct some holiday exploring in the mountains that he thought he knew so well.

"We were in the 439 Mountain Area."

Gohan's eyes widened a little, clearly excited. "That's where I live! Is there some cool magical stuff over there?"

Andres smirked and nodded. "Yep, a whole shit load of things. My parents even told me that there were a few places even they couldn't break into. It was protected by wards using some extremely powerful dark magic that was beyond even their capabilities!"

Gohan's was thrilled at this. "Awesome! Now I'm going to be awfully busy checking out the mountains during the holidays. Hey, if I find anything, we can split it fifty-fifty, it only seems fair."

Andres chuckled and looked at him tartly. Gohan glared at his new friend. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

The Spanish boy sneered at the Saiyan's question. _I guess it's true, all Slytherins have an innate ability to sneer, including me, _Gohan thought.

"Gohan, don't be stupid –" Gohan scowled at this. "The magic protecting that place is so ridiculously advanced that we can't even fathom how powerful those wards are. If my parents, the greatest Curse Breakers in the world, can't do it, what makes you think you can do it?"

It was now Gohan's turn to sneer, causing Andres to frown at him. "Oh, I have my ways Andres. So ridiculously advanced, that you can't even fathom how powerful those ways are."

Andres spitefully glowered at Gohan and firmly crossed his arms. "Really now? So all of sudden you're better than my parents! If you're so damn sure that you can best my parents, why don't you break all those damn wards, take pictures as proof that you actually got inside the mountain, and show me the god damn treasure you cocky bastard!"

Gohan waved off the spite being thrown at him, nonchalantly glanced at his pissed off friend, and coolly replied, "Fine then, I'll do everything you say."

If anything, Gohan apathetically agreeing to Andres's demands infuriated the Spanish boy even more. Andres had to everything in his power to keep his fiery temper in check. He gritted his teeth and hotly kept conversing. "Since it seems like you're so smug about this shit, how about we make a bet?"

Gohan rolled his eyes, Andres caught this and was about to punch him until he caught his own arm. "Sure, why not?"

"Good. If you don't break those wards and bring back the treasure, then you're going to have do something absolutely horrifying."

"Sure, sure. Now when I do get in and bring back the treasure, you'll have to find a way to bring some of you parents' advanced magic books to let me borrow, and you'll have to be my personal assistant (who may or may not have rights) for a week."

Andres curled his lips in delight, catching Gohan off guard. "Honestly Gohan, I'd love to see things from your perspective. Unfortunately, I can't seem to get my head that far up my ass."

"Bugger off," Gohan snapped, fed up with his new friend (or new enemy Gohan wasn't too sure at this point).

"With pleasure my comrade." Andres haughtily replied. He turned around with a huff, and walked away looking for an empty seat far away from Gohan.

Gohan was still cooling down when he heard an interesting name yelled out. "James, Zayden!"

Gohan rolled his eyes when everyone started murmuring about the "cool French prince." The demi-saiyan icily stared at the pompous prince, as he haughtily strutted his way towards the magical hat. _Please don't put him in Slytherin, please don't put him in Slytherin, please don't put him in Slytherin _Gohan pleaded to Kami. Deep down inside however, Gohan knew that his pleas were futile because the French prince was exactly the type of filth that Slytherin accepted. The Saiyan knew that were a higher proportion of pompous pricks in Slytherin compared to other houses.

"That disgusting thing is going to be placed on my royal head? Ha, what insanity!" the prince snobbishly snarled. Once again, Gohan rolled his eyes at the prince and contorted his facial features to look even more repulsed by very sight of the prince, if it was even possible. _What an arrogant, self-centered, egotistical dickhead._

The demi-saiyan delightedly noted that Professor McGonagall looked exasperated by the French prince's arrogance.

"You need to learn more respect you arrogant bag of royal rubbish! Put on that hat now!" McGonagall barked out. Gohan took pleasure at seeing the horror-struck royal face of the young prince. _What a coward._

The prince grudgingly complied with the Professor's demands and placed the old hat on his royal head.

The second he put on the old hat it immediately announced, "SLYHERIN!"

_Damn it, one more prick to deal with._

Some cheering came from the Slytherin table until Professor McGonagall faced the young prince again. "Now sincerely say your apologies to everyone here."

Gohan gleefully took in the sight of the miserable young prince before him. The prince gritted his teeth and harshly barked out, "I'm sorry." He then trudged towards the long Slytherin table.

_I guess today wasn't too bad after all_. "Satan, Videl!" _Nevermind. I completely forgot about that harpy! Where oh where is the harpy going to be placed? My school life is looking bleaker and bleaker by the second. _

The amount of murmurings doubled at that sound of her name. Gohan had to roll his eyes again. He scowled when he picked up the words "her dad is the savior of the earth" and "the man who beat Cell", choosing then to not even look at the girl. It took a couple of moments for the hat to decide, but eventually it announced as Gohan expected, "SLYTHERIN!" The other houses looked at her in disbelief, wondering how the daughter of the earth's savior was placed in Slytherin.

Gohan sighed, as if he had just suffered a great debacle. The unfortunate saiyan put his elbow on the table and held his head with his hand. He was fed up with the sorting and dazed off a little, giving his attention over to floating candles. _I should try that at a party at Capsule Corp one day. Bulma would freak. _He still caught a few names despite his attention being drawn to the bewitched candles.

"Pencil, Erasa!"

"SLYHERIN!"

"Paper, Sharpner!" A few snickers went around at the name.

"SLYTHERIN!"

A few minutes later, the sorting ceremony had finally concluded much to Gohan's relief. He looked at his golden plate expectantly, impatiently waiting for the food to magically appear.

Gohan was exasperated when he saw Dumbledore stand up, clearly looking to announce something. Despite his age, the tall old man seemed to be filled with boundless energy and was glowing with excitement. Over his half-moon spectacles, he carried the famous twinkle in his light blue eyes that confirmed the ever-present youthfulness inside.

"I can see from your anxious faces that you are very bored with the old man in front of you and eager to eat and socialize with your friends, so dig in"

_Finally!_ Gohan thought, and dug in just as Dumbledore had instructed. Much to everyone's surprise, the Saiyan absolutely ravaged and tore through the food. Several plates containing roast beef, mashed potatoes, cakes, turkey, steak and more disappeared into the insatiable Saiyan's endless pit of a stomach. The students gawked at the ravenous Saiyan shell-shocked at what they were witnessing. Even the staff gawked at Gohan, while the headmaster looked quite bemused by the scandal Gohan was creating.

"Wow dude, you sure eat a lot!" Gohan turned around to meet Andres's grin. "You're like a vacuum but a really cool vacuum," Andres exclaimed.

Gohan looked at him inquiringly. "I thought I told you to bugger off."

"It's no fun without you man, those other Slytherins are a bunch of stuck-up pricks."

Gohan rolled his eyes (yep again). "And you said I was an arrogant prick."

Andres chuckled. "Well let's say not even you can stick your head so far up your ass that you look at things from the famous Slytherin perspective!" Gohan chuckled too, all too knowing of the reputed Slytherin arrogance. Of course, not every Slytherin was extremely self-centered, but a lot of them were. "You wouldn't even stand a chance against them in a "Who's the Bigger Dick... Head" showdown."

Gohan smiled at his friend and nodded. "Yah, I know."

"Hell, there's some kid named Malfoy, and – well damn now he is the definition of conceit, snobbery, smugness, pompousness, and – you know what I mean."

As they continued chatting and eating, the Spanish boy attempted to sneak one of Gohan's cake pieces. Unfortunately, for Andres, Gohan's eyes were simply to fast to not catch this.

"What the hell are you doing? I'm going to eat that!" Gohan growled.

Andres nervously laughed. "I was just trying to – see if I could sneak one past you know – for fun?"

Gohan smirked and mocked his friend, "You'll never get one past me!"

Andres rasied an eyebrow. "Really now?" Gohan playfully sneered and nodded.

"Never underestimate your enemies Son," Andres lightheartedly wagged his finger at Gohan.

Gohan scoffed and cackled. "If anything I'm overestimating you! Oh Andres, you're a riot!"

Andres pouted and whined, "Why are you being so mean Gohan-chan!"

For Gohan, the rest of the night went quite well with his new friend, Andres. Despite the repulsed looks being shot at him, the constant questioning by strangers around him about how he could eat so much, and that little accident he had when he set Malfoy's hair on fire (or was that a good thing?) for acting like a prick towards him, the night went well.

Dumbledore stood up again when the feast had concluded. "I am glad to see that you have enjoyed yourself, but the feast is over and I have some announcments. Firstly, this is mainly for the new students but also for the returning ones as well, the Forbidden Forest is exactly what its name connotes, forbidden."

_That makes it more interesting._

Dumbledore paused and then motioned towards Gilderoy Lockhart. "I am also pleased to announce a new addition to my wonderful staff. Please give a round of applause for the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Lockhart."

Loud cheering erupted throughout the Great Hall from all the tables (except Slytherin to Gohan's delight). Lockhart stood up and brightly smiled at the students, garnering dreamy sighs from much of the feminine population. Gohan rolled his eyes for the millionth time and felt like gagging.

"And I leave you with words of wisdom, Zonks! Chuggers! Lemon drops! Sweet Chops!"

Gohan gazed in bewilderment at his friend. "Is he bonkers or what?"

Andres chuckled. "Dumbledore is a brilliant wizard, but he's also a little nutty."

After the announcement, Gohan trailed the back of the first-year Slytherin line being escorted by the prefects towards the common room. He and Andres kept on chattering about random things while hushing their occasional laughs. Even though he was having a good time with Andres, his thoughts revolved around his Gryffindor friends, wondering about how they would react towards him the following day.

_Nice place they've got here. Not. What a weird place to have a common room! A dungeon? No wonder Slytherins are so crabby._

The Slytherins walked through a labyrinth of corridors to reach the common room. The secret door was hidden on a plain stone wall.They were told the password by the prefects and subsequently allowed in.

The common room was just as dreary as the dungeons. The same cold stone walls were in place, and the common room retained the dungeon's palatable chill, while the flickering fireplace's breath was unable to provide any substantial degree of warmth. A dull gray couch lay at the center of the eerie room and a medium-sized stone table stood in front of it. There were two ornate stone pillars of serpents surrounding each descending stairway. The spiraling stairways led to even gloomier depths of chilling eeriness in the dark dormitories. All in all, the lifeless common room personified the house of Slytherin.

"You four, come here, I will take you to your dormitory," a prefect called out to Gohan, Andres, and two other Slytherin first years. As they descended, Gohan asked the other two boys for their names. The taller lanky kid was named Urquhart and the other chubbier kid was named Vaisey.

Once they entered the dark common room, Andres whispered to Gohan, "Where's your trunk?"

Gohan smiled, and picked out a capsule from his pocket. "Right here," he said, pointing at the capsule. "In this little _muggle_ capsule."

Andres narrowed his eyes, looking at him disbelievingly. "Are you pulling my leg, is that some magic thing?"

"Nope, watch." He looked over his shoulder, to affirm whether the other boys were watching him. The other two were busy looking through their trunks' compartments. Satisfied, Gohan turned his neck back to Andres, tapped the top of the capsule, and threw it low in the air. A puff of smoke was ejected, and as soon the smoke had cleared, the Saiyan's trunk was visible.

"Awesome." Andres grinned, his smile then faltered somewhat. "But I've read that muggle electronics don't work at Hogwarts because of the high levels of magic."

"Well that rule doesn't apply to my friend's creations I guess."

After a few more words, they both went to bed. Gohan didn't immediately fall asleep; he lay on his bed thinking for a while. He went over the various possible reactions from each of his friends, imagining himself being confronted by them as they either berated him or uneasily questioned him. He would prefer the latter, but he knew that at least two of them (Ron and Hermione) would conduct the former. The significant question to Gohan, however, was whether he cared if they ostracized him. If this were the case, the Saiyan inside him would reason that they were weak and not worth his time while the human inside him would reason that they were ignorantly labeling him if they took such an unjustified stance. Hearing from both sides soothed his worries about how they would react.

At least how _some _of them would react. He felt differently towards Harry and Ginny. He felt that they were special, and in a short time had quickly developed an immense fondness of the two. One of them was a courageous boy who had to confront the immense evil of Voldemort twice, coming out victorious both times. The other, was a warm kind girl who brought out a side out a different side of Gohan. If Gohan still was worried, it was because of those two.

The next morning started decently for Gohan. After waking up and preparing for the upcoming day, he spent his time conversing with Andres as they strolled towards the Great Hall.

"You know Gohan, I have a feeling we aren't going to have too many friends in Slytherin."

Gohan agreed. "Yah, even if we're Slytherins, we have to admit that almost all of them are assholes."

"Dude, there even was this one kid this morning talking about Voldemort like a hero! A first-year too!"

Gohan frowned. "Do you know who it was?"

Andres scowled. "Yep, it was the royal Prince James the First," Andres said, putting a snooty tone on the words 'Prince James'.

Gohan scowled too. "Uggh, that pompous prick, I can't stand him! Maybe we should keep a close eye on the 'prince' of fags. A dark lord supporter is never good, no matter how young."

Andres agreed. "Come on Gohan, they _might _run out of food," Andres teased.

This made Gohan anxious. "Oh no – no! Hurry up Andres, what are you waiting for? I'm going to die of starvation!" He grabbed Andres and the started running, getting stares from some of the students they passed. The demi-saiyan was withholding his true speed, not wanting to create a bizarre scene that surely would lead to an interrogation.

Despite withholding much of his speed, he seemed to be running as fast as an Olympic sprinter. "Whoa, hold on Gohan! I was just joking jeez." Gohan stopped, a little miffed, but never less, delighted that the food wasn't going to end. "The food doesn't end here Gohan, my parents told me elves make it continuously because they sure do love making food."

The hungry saiyan let out a sigh relief and smiled at his friend. "I can be so gullible at times."

Andres smiled back. "Dude, I like you like that. Don't change, your gullibility is a breath of fresh air from what I'm used to."

Gohan thought about what Andres said. The words 'don't change' rang through his mind.

"Hey dude, what happened to that 'I'm going to die of starvation' crap?"

"Oh yeah! Let's go."

They walked through the Great Hall's grand oak doors and sat in the nearest seats at their long house table. Chatter bloated the room, as friends of all years merrily socialized. Gohan and Andres dug into their food, and some stares of awe made their way towards Gohan just like the previous night.

_I guess I'll have to get used to it._

Gohan's mind was half concentrated on eating food, half concentrated on his conversation with Andres, and half concentrated on his thoughts about his Gryffindor friends (so he was using 150 of his thought process).

After about half an hour, Snape handed out the schedules to the Slytherins. He gave the Saiyan and Spanish boy their schedules, while wrinkling his nose in disgust at Gohan's eating habits.

"Here Son, maybe you'll learn some manners in my class," Snape drawled.

Gohan bitterly looked back at his new professor, not willing to respond, ironically because of the manners his mother taught him.

"What's this? Hmm, it seems like you do have some manners. Well it's too bad my class isn't about proper dining etiquette, but I'm sure you'll learn something in there if you use more than half your brain." Snape walked away and Gohan glowered at the professor.

"He's a greasy git," Gohan deadpanned.

"Tell me something I don't know Gohan," Andres said. "But yep, I mean look at that hair! It's so oily, I'm sure he's – All by himself! He don't wanna be, all by himself! Anymore!" Andres sang with a Spanish accent, completely ruining Celine Dion's song.

Gohan winced at his friend's singing. "Stop damn it! You can't sing for shit! You're disgracing Celine Dion right now!"

Andres ignored him and kept singing, drawing attention from much of school. He kept singing unwaveringly despite some jeers (including Gohan) from the students, at least until someone tapped him on his shoulder. The wanna be Celine Dion turned around, meeting the sight of a huge, ugly looking ogre (Goyle). "Derrr what song was tat? It sounded so perty!"

The Saiyan and Spanish boy sweat dropped giving wide-eyed looks at Goyle.

After a few moments, Andres snapped out of his incredulous state and perked up. "That was 'All by Myself' by Celine Dion. But the song is actually sung in first-person."

Goyle grinned stupidly at the two friends. "Thank you very much chaps. Good day!" The ogre merrily trudged off.

"Who was that?" Gohan asked and quivered.

"I don't know but he sure gives me the willy nillys!" Andres said in a frightened voice.

"Was it an ogre?"

"Or a troll?"

"Or a Martian?"

"Or an animagus"

"Or a teddy bear?"

"Or he-whose-name-I-don't-give-a-shit?"

They both hesitated and unison answered, "Nah!"

"ALL BY MYSELF! I DUNT WANNA BE ALL BY MYSELF! ANYMORE!"

"Oh Kami!" Gohan cried. A terrible, shrill, cloy voice filled the Great Hall. Gohan and Andres looked towards where the voice was coming from and then immediately broke down in a fit of hysteria. "OR MALFOY'S CRONY!" they joyously cried. They glanced back at the scene and started laughing even harder, turning blue in the face. The entire hall noticed Goyle singing to Malfoy and Crabbe, sending the rest of the students into hysteria, including some of the staff.

During the fantastic spectacle, unfortunately for the boys, the bell rang. "Double Potions with the Gryffindors." Andres announced. Gohan paled a little, which caused Andres to feel concerned about his friend. "Gohan, what's wrong?" he inquired.

"I'm that easy to through?" Gohan complained.

"We all are at times."

Gohan sighed and drew a sharp breath. "Well, I made friends during the train ride here, and they're all Gryffindors."

Andres shook his head, now in complete comprehension about what troubled the Saiyan. "And you're worried about how they'll react about your placement in Slytherin."

"Exactly, but all of my friends, except one of them, are a year or more ahead of me. The other friend is a first year, either a friend or a sister of theirs, and my girlfriend."

Andres smirked at Gohan. "Whoa whoa, did I hear that farmer boy Gohan has a girlfriend! I thought you said you barely even knew what a girl was before Hogwarts, and you're telling me that you actually picked one up on your first day."

Gohan blushed a little, yielding snickers from Andres. The demi-saiyan uncomfortably shrugged. "I guess I'm a natural at this type of stuff."

Andres gave him two thumbs up. "Is she cute?"

"We're talking about my problem not my girlfriend's attractiveness!" Gohan growled.

"Sheesh I was just being my natural manly self," Andres muttered under his breath.

Gohan scoffed. "Well try to be more understanding and it'll help if you get in touch with your feminine side for a minute."

Andres just huffed and crossed his arms. "Well thank you Mr. Pompous Prick," the troubled wizard sarcastically said. "You see Andres, my friends obviously won't react very well to my sorting and we're having a class with that slime-ball Snape, and my Gryffindor girlfriend."

The fiery Spanish boy broke out of his position. "Gohan, you know that if they actually give a damn about you then they wouldn't get their panties in a twist over which house you're in."

Gohan slowly nodded. "Yah, you're right Andres. If they can't deal with me being in Slytherin, then they're not worth my time, even Ginny Weasley."

The Spanish boy gawked at him. "Ginny Weasley? She is cute, why didn't you tell me?" Andres whined.

Gohan frowned at him. "I know you're a little dense but please don't make me repeat myself, don't you remember I said we were supposed to be talking about my problem not my girlfriend's attractiveness?"

"Oh yah," Andres dumbly replied. "Now that you mention it."

Gohan just sighed and they kept on going towards Potions.

Once they reached their class, they entered a dimly lit room that felt several degrees cooler than the rest of the castle. The walls were shadowy, and lined with several different jars sitting on top of a dull wooden table. There was a cupboard in the front left corner of the class holding jars with even more peculiar things inside, and an unlit fireplace lined the front classroom wall.

Gohan felt jitters race through his body and his mouth go dry when he saw a red haired girl sitting at the back row. He poked Andres's side, and then inconspicuously pointed at Ginny. Andres nodded, and trailed Gohan as the nervous savior of the earth walked towards his girlfriend. Andres sat five seats away from Ginny and Gohan slowly approached her.

The tense demi-saiyan cleared his throat. "Hi Ginny," Gohan nervously said. Ginny had been reading a book, but her boyfriend's voice surprised her and she jumped a little from her seat. She turned around and gave the Saiyan an angered look. Gohan cursed silently at the reaction, but then noticed that she didn't truly appear angry with him. Her frown was forced and her eyes were misty, filled with confusion.

"Ginny, about my sorting into Slytherin..." Ginny placed her finger on his lips and her eyes held back tears.

"Gohan, you were the greatest thing that could possibly happen to me in my first year at Hogwarts. I feel terrible that such a great blessing could possibly become one of the worst things that's ever happened to me, if you really are like all the other Slytherins Ron rants about. That's because I can't help crushing over you, even if you actually are an arrogant, self-centered git."

"Ginny, I am what you saw last night. I am not like all the others," he sincerely said.

"But then why where you sorted in Slytherin?"

"Mr. Son and Ms.Weasley, didn't you hear me the first time I told you to **stop talking**?" Snape drawled. Ginny blushed while Gohan gritted his teeth at Snape. "But you might as well be honored at being the first to receive a detention out of all the first years. Congratulations, you will be helping out Lockhart this evening." Snape mockingly applauded. The Slytherins sniggered.

Ginny glowered at Gohan, irritated that their conversation had got them a detention. "Ginny I didn't do anything," Gohan whispered.

The fiery girl huffed and didn't respond.

Snape proceeded on and called out names. Once he finished, he looked up from his sheet at the class with his dark empty eyes.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potionmaking," he said, and then paused. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death -- if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach." (Quotes in this paragraph exactly the same as in Harry Potter Sorcerer's Stone)

_After some lecturing, the class brewed a potion with relatively no incidents, at least no major ones. Whenever you have a class full of Slytherins and Gryffindors, nothing can go smoothly. _

_Gohan noticed that Snape treated the Gryffindors unjustly. He took off points for the slightest of things while he turned a blind eye to any mistakes the Slytherins made. _

Gohan's potion was going very well, even with his mind concentrated solely on Ginny. His constant attempts to get even peep out of her failed, miserably.

The upset Saiyan stared at his friend helplessly. Andres gave the distressed wizard a sympathetic look and a shrug of his shoulders. Gohan sighed, and took a glance at how Ginny's potion was going. It was a light green, unlike Gohan's dark green potion.

"Ginny, add some more of that herb, your potion isn't dark enough. Hurry Snape is coming."

Ginny hesitated a little, but then decided that ignoring Gohan wasn't worth it if it meant lowering her grade. Immediately, the potion turned a dark green color. Professor Snape then swooped over the disgruntled couple like an eagle catching its prey.

"Well, well, well. A Gryffindor here actually knows how to use their brain. A Weasley too? I will admit, it's a decent potion Ms. Weasley, but definitely not perfect. I'll give you an _A._

Gohan was enraged that Snape had given Ginny an _Acceptable _for a potion that should've gotten top marks.

Snape then fixed his cold gaze onto Gohan's potion. "A perfect potion Mr. Son, worthy of an _O_."

That was the last straw for Gohan. He shot up from his chair and gave Snape a frosty glare. "Stop being such a prejudiced, unfair, greasy bigot! If I deserve _O_, Ginny deserves an _O _too because her potion is every bit as good as mine!" Gohan barked at Snape with vigor.

Snape glared at the Saiyan menacingly. "Mr. Son, it seems like you can't control yourself therefore, I will have to give you two more detentions, one with me, and another one with Lockhart. Maybe then you will learn to properly respect your superiors."

Gohan fumed even more, but kept himself calm enough to not raise his ki because that would reveal secrets he didn't want to come out. "I don't care about your detentions, what about Ginny?" the Saiyan hotly questioned.

"Who is the Professor here Mr. Son?" Snape snidely asked. Gohan looked at him coldly, wanting to strike him dead with a powerful ki blast. "I am Mr.Son. If you need help in understanding what point I was attempting to get across with that question, it is that I know how to properly judge a potion. Who are you to disagree with me?"

Gohan sat down in his seat, not wanting to worsen the situation. Snape went back to examining the students' potions, as if nothing had happened. Ginny gave Gohan a quick peck on the cheek. "You don't have to explain anything Gohan," Ginny whispered in his ear. Gohan's scowl slowly turned into a smile. "I can clearly see that you're not a slimy Slytherin git, but my dazzling knight in shining armor."

Gohan gave her a glittering smile in response. "I am at your service my fair lady, make sure to beckon for whatever you needeth of me and I will come hither," Gohan said in a debonair voice.

Ginny giggled. "Certainly my charming knight, I will keep that in mind."

The bell rang, signaling the end of class much to Gohan's relief, although he was reluctant to leave Ginny. While preparing to leave, Andres approached the two of them. "So you two have made up. Aww how sweet!" Andres smirked. "Gohan pulled out the old cliché knight-in-shining-armor-attempts-to-rescue-in-trouble-princess. Unfortunately against the script, the knight failed because of his own ineptitude, but at least they lived happily ever after together. That's very nice indeed." Ginny giggled but Gohan glared at Andres.

"Come on Gohan, he seems like a funny guy. Care to introduce me to your friend, my sweet knight?"

Gohan's features warmed up a bit. "This is my friend from Spain, Andres. Andres this is Ginny."

"It's a pleasure to meet you my lady," Andres courteously said. He gently grasped Ginny's hand, kneeled down, and kissed it. Ginny giggled at his courteous display. Gohan, on the other hand, felt like strangling the cavalier Spanish boy. "Oh Gohan, don't be so cross, I am only doing what the proper gentleman should do."

Gohan huffed in response and turned his back at his friend. Andres smirked and said in a teasing tone, "Don't get too bothered by him, he gets angry at the silliest things." Ginny laughed and Gohan tensed up even more.

"Come on Gohan, Andres is just playing around with you. Don't take it so serious, your _fine lady_ doesn't like that." At Ginny's words, he turned around back at his friends and sluggishly smiled.

"Fine, let's get going." The trio walked out of the gloomy class and a few moments of silence passed until Gohan broke it. "Me and Andres have Transfiguration next, how about you Ginny?"

She sighed unhappily, obviously not excited. "I have History of Magic next. My brothers have told me it's the most boring class in Hogwarts." She paused then continued. "The professor is a dull old ghost who probably could only be exciting if his life depended on it."

A look of thoughtfulness passed the boys' faces. Gohan quipped up first, "And because he's dead –"

"His life would never be at risk – " Andres partially filled in.

"So he never will excite anyone," Gohan finished, proud that he understood.

Ginny smiled, amused by the boys. "Bravo boys. I'm sure that was _very _difficult, probably even stretching your brain powers to their limits." She mockingly applauded in a similar fashion as Snape had.

They boys both puffed. "Hmm!"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Slytherins," she muttered under her breath. The boys burst out laughing, confusing Ginny. "Mmm... okaaay.

"That's exactly what we wanted to hear Slytherins!" They said in unison. "See we're not all the same."

She shook her head, feeling sad for the boys. "That was lame."

"Hey!" they both cried out.

"You know, you guys are turning into my brothers, it's freaky seeing how both of you are so... synchronized in speech."

After a few seconds of complaining from the boys, Gohan finally asked a serious question. "Ginny, how did the others react?"

She grimaced a little. "Harry and Neville took it decently, just like me, they weren't sure if you being in Slytherin would mean that you were any different from the person we met. My brothers took it humorously after the shock, joking that finally a good apple came out of a crappy farm." Gohan smiled slightly at this. "Hermione took it pretty badly, and tried to convince Harry that you shouldn't be trusted, but Harry gave her the typical Hermione rationale about the fallacy of stereotyping. Hermione immediately started tearing at herself, calling herself in her words, 'nothing better than dogmatic, close-minded fool.' Ron exploded and yelled that he doesn't want anything to do with you and urged me to stay away from you."

"I'm relieved that the others didn't take it that badly but I guess Ron won't exactly be my number one supporter than huh?" Gohan noted.

"He won't be serenading you anytime soon that's for sure." Gohan pouted at Ginny.

"You discovered my secret to use you to get to your beautiful strong brother," Gohan said indignantly. Andres and Ginny's mirth exploded at the Saiyan's outrageous statement.

After a couple more minutes of conversation, Ginny had to turn right to get to her class while the boys kept heading north to McGonagall's class. They arrived right on time, and opened the wooden door. They met the sight of a tabby cat, lazily curled up on the Professor's hard seat, while seemingly probing the first years curiously. Gohan sensed McGonagall's ki in the cat, and reasoned that the cat was her animagus.

_When I become an animagus, I want to be something more kickass than a cat._

The two boys looked around the class for two empty seats, and unfortunately, for them, sitting at the available seats would separate the two friends. "I call dibs on the seat at the far left corner," Andres said anxiously, his tone confusing Gohan.

"Whatever." Gohan shrugged. His impassive expression quickly was swathed by an incensed one at the sight of Videl Satan sitting next to the empty seat. "DAMN IT PIRES GET BACK HERE!" Gohan yelled, causing the class to snap out of their stupor.

"Mr. Son! Do not use that language in my class!" McGonagall barked at the angry Saiyan. Gohan made a mental note to punch himself hard, very hard later at night for his idiocy. The class gasped that the cat was actually their professor, but then stiffened at the sight of a furious McGonagall.

_Might as well try my little weapon that always works, well except with mom._

"I'm sorry Professor McGonagall, really" Gohan said while faking sincerity, lowering his head slightly, and looking at her with large, guilt-filled, black eyes. He mentally smirked as his professor's features softened considerably.

"I accept your apology Mr. Son. Just make sure to be more careful with your word choice next time, okay?"

The devious Saiyan gave her a warm smile. He then turned back and smirked at the rest of the class. He took a distinct delight at the glower thrown at him by Videl Satan.

Gohan walked towards the last seat of the column, next to Videl Satan, behind a blond girl, and diagonally across a blond boy.

Professor McGonagall stood up tall, and fixed a firm gaze onto all the students. Her dark square eyes were stern, and her hair was tightly fitted into a bun. "Students, today is the first day of Transfiguration and I warn all of you to not delusion yourself that just because I was not at my usual stringent best in terms of behavior with Mr. Son's conduct, that I am not strict. I am exactly the opposite, and I have high expectations for all of you." She took a moment to examine the class, making sure that no one was goofing off. Her gaze met stiff, frightened students and an unbreakable silence was the constant in the air.

Once she was satisfied, she continued. "Transfiguration is some of the most difficult and possibly hazardous magic that you will be taught at Hogwarts. As I told you before, I do not tolerate anyone who does not take my class seriously, you will leave and never come back if I you are disrupting my class."

She caught their interest by changing her desk into a cute dog and then reverting it back to its usual uninteresting form. Many of them were eager to quickly begin the lesson but unfortunately, they quickly came to a realization that Transfiguration wasn't going to be easy. They first had to take extensive wearisome notes.

Gohan sat uninterested as they were taught, having learned all of the material the first day he bought his books. In fact, he already had gone through the entire book effortlessly, and easily recalled everything he had read. The only thing that could quip his interest would be practicing the magic, because of course he couldn't do that at his house, unless he wanted to be expelled before ever going to Hogwarts.

"Now class, I will give each of you a match. You are to transform the match into a needle." She walked through the class, handing out matches to the eager students. All of them glad to be broken out of the exhaustingly boring process of note taking.

"Now begin," she announced. Gohan gave his a match a dispassionate look and with one simple flick of his supple wand, the match transformed into a sharp silver needle.

"I'm done Professor," Gohan impassively stated. Professor McGonagall was astonished that first year student could complete the task on their first attempt. Not even Hermione Granger, who had been the most brilliant first year in years, had been so adept.

She quickly walked over, needing to see it to believe it. "Mr. Son, that's wonderful!" She smiled at him. "Never has a student ever been this proficient. Keep on working hard Mr. Son and you will likely excel in my class."

Gohan resisted the urge to brag that he knew everything that was going to be rehashed to him, including much of the second year course.

For the next several minutes, he took pleasure in watching Hercule's daughter's several failed attempts at the task.

"Seems like things aren't going very peachy huh?" Gohan said conversationally.

Videl fixed her gaze even stronger on the needle, attempting to ignore the Saiyan's taunts.

"That's not very nice Videl," Gohan said, feigning emotional pain. "Why don't you ever want to talk to me?" His lips formed a smirk, and grew taut as he eyed Videl's face curl up in incensed irritation.

"Because you're a thick-headed, idiotic, egotistical jerk," Videl's breath hissed from her teeth.

The blonde girl slightly turned around and looked at the two discreetly enough to not garner the professor's attention. "Videl, don't act so mean, from what you keep saying about the 'infuriating incident'," she used her fingers to form the quotation marks, "Gohan here doesn't seem that bad of guy." She then eyed him for a few seconds and squealed. "Plus, Gohan is super cute."

Gohan awkwardly laughed softly at Erasa. He still wasn't used to being complimented by a girl. "Um thanks, uh what's your name?"

She smiled at him, her eyes traveling up and down, exploring his features merrily. "The name's Erasa, and that air-head next to me is Sharpener."

Sharpener hastily turned around and scowled. "Whatever Erasa, I'm no air-head, just honest." Erasa rolled her eyes. "And you should know better than to question Videl when she calls someone an asshole, that is, when it's not me." Sharpener's blue eyes then intensely locked onto Gohan's obsidian eyes, attempting to intimidate the Saiyan. "So dweeb, I've heard you were pissing off Videl. You made fun of her pops, the savior of you and the entire world. So apologize and stay out of our way, or you will reap the consequences and get pummeled to the ground by Hercule's newest martial arts student, me." Sharpener ended and smirked smugly at the Saiyan.

Gohan looked at him listlessly, and yawned. "Are you finally done?" he questioned.

Videl and Sharpener both looked at him lividly. "That's enough Barney, you're going down at lunch!" Sharpener hissed.

Erasa quipped up. "Hey, come on he didn't do – "

Videl interrupted Erasa without second thoughts. "He's mine to take down."

"But Videl!" Sharpener whined.

"Come on you guys, he –"

"He insulted my father and insulted me, it's my fight." Sharpener reluctantly nodded, defeated by Videl, while Erasa gave Gohan a solicitous glance. Videl's face was teeming with shadowy darkness as she whipped her pate around from Sharpener to direct a ferocious death glare at the apathetic Gohan. "You're going to get your ass kicked for your disrespectful insults Son. You and me at lunch, seventh floor, anything goes." Gohan's expressionless face sent a small pang of worry to Videl's stomach, but she shook it off and continued. "And when I kick your ass, you can't go crying to anyone about getting your ass handed to you. I'm sure you won't do that though, because after all, you wouldn't want your big ego to get hurt even more, would you?"

Gohan carelessly said, "Whatever."

Videl gritted her teeth at Gohan, but silently went back to her task.

"I don't think you're that bad of guy Gohan," Erasa whispered towards him.

Gohan gave her a small smile. "Thanks."

The demi-saiyan thought in advance about what he would do during the 'fight'. He was pretty sure that when she meant fight she wanted to beat him with her fists. Obviously he wouldn't truly fight the girl. In fact, he wouldn't even attempt to land a punch on her because not only was she a girl, but she was also a warrior. Since she said anything goes, he decided that he would just use Stupefy on her and then use Rennervate.

After a few more minutes, the bell rang and the students quickly got up, moving out the door. Gohan and Andres walked together to the seventh floor as Gohan recounted the story to his friend.

"Wow, she is one fiery girl... I like that." Andres cheekily grinned.

Gohan frowned. "If you actually meet her you'll be wishing to never ever have to talk to her again. She's literally Satan's spawn."

After a few more minutes of conversation and walking, they reached the eighth floor. They walked east and then turned north. A few moments later, they stood face to face with Videl and her friends. Videl's black glove-covered fists tightly curled into balls at the sight of Gohan.

Videl stepped up and shot Gohan a dark glare. "Ready Son?"

"Whenever you are Satan," Gohan coldly rolled off his tongue.

"Good, hah!" She leapt off the ground and attempted to land a blow on Gohan's head. He effortlessly dodged her. Surprisingly to Gohan, she quickly shot another fist, and then threw him a flurry of kicks and jabs, which Gohan either dodged or blocked.

Andres's mouth gaped open at the fight. "Woah, this is awesome." Sharpener and Erasa were equally in awe, mainly with Gohan's ability to actually hold his own quite well with the ruthless fighter that was Videl. After all, any kid who ever seriously pissed off Videl got their ass beat badly. One time during kindergarten, when a big bully twice her size had swiped her lollipop from her hands, she made him squeal out loud for his mommy in front of everyone, including the teachers. Another time when a guy viciously teased Erasa, Videl knocked his two front teeth out. And who could forget about the time when a girl ridiculed Videl's fashion sense? She came out with a face so bruised and blue, that she lost all her stuck-up friends for not looking 'like a princess' anymore.

The Saiyan was toying with the fiery girl, taunting her whenever he had the opportunity.

"Looky looky Videl, I'm over here!"

Fist thrown, dodge fist

"You're fast! Too bad I'm faster."

Kick thrown, block kick.

"Keep on trying, someday you might hit me."

Fist thrown, block fist.

"Before you came along I was hungry for ice cream, meeting you made me fed up with so much ice."

Kick thrown, dodge kick.

"Videl, I'll never forget that beautiful day we first met – but honest to god I'll keep on trying.

Fist thrown, dodge fist.

"You're a bastard!" She screamed.

"Why thanks for the compliment."

She launched at him again, but in a blink of an eye, Gohan whipped out his purple wand and yelled, "_Stupefy!_" A beam of light hit Videl, sending her spiraling towards the wall. Her limp body hit the bottom of the wall, leaving her back resting on the firm stones.

Sharpener and Erasa looked shocked at what happened and where going to scream at Gohan but the Saiyan waved his wand and chanted, "_Rennervate!" _The blondes sighed in relief at the sight of their friend regaining consciousness.

"Tell her if she ever wants to apologize for being a bitch, she can come to me, I'll be a nice guy and gladly accept her apology," he told the blondes. The winner then motioned to Andres. "Come on Andres, let's get going so we can meet up with Ginny." The pair left the other three, off to leave behind an enemy and meet up with a friend.

Videl's eyes looked at the disappearing figure of Gohan regretfully. She had felt miserably nauseous when he called her a bitch, and she wasn't sure why.


	6. The First Mistake

Thanks for all the reviews

**Thanks for all the reviews.**

**Disclaimer: Insert typical disclaimer here for HP and DBZ **

"GOHAN SON! HOW DARE YOU FIGHT A GIRL!"

The boys covered their ears, and cowered in fear at the enraged girl in front of them.

Gohan weakly spoke up. "Gi-Ginny, she wanted to fight me and –"

"That doesn't mean you had to!"

Still cowering in fear, Andres raised an eyebrow at Gohan. "She does have a point there."

"Hey, you're on my side! Slytherins vs Gryffindors."

Andres shrugged. "No biggy, I'll be a Gryffindor for a few seconds."

Gohan gave his double-crossing friend a glare. "Traitor."

"Well Gohan? You don't have a reason then?" Ginny superciliously asked.

"Yah I do –"

"Then let's hear it!" she roared. Gohan cowered down even further.

"Yah, Gohan let's hear it," Andres weakly affirmed, and then straightened up. Gohan sent another glare at Andres. The Spanish boy nervously chuckled. "I just want to hear your reason... nothing personal against you – or for her."

Gohan stood straight up from his cowering position, gave Ginny the fabulous Son grin, and nervously looked at her. "Well, you see Ginny. I fought Videl Satan and..."

"You wanted to prove that you could beat Hercule's daughter," she spat out.

"Yah." Ginny's glare intensified. "I mean no! Well maybe I did, wait! No I didn't. Like I said, she challenged me but I knew she wouldn't accept it if I backed down."

"And why is that?"

"Yah, why is that?" Andres ostentatiously said, and righteously crossed his arms.

"Will you shut up Spanish boy? You already know why! As long as you don't help me out, this is a tête-à-tête."

"Why did call me Spanish and then use French? That's pretty stupid."

The in-trouble Saiyan narrowed his eyes at his friend. "God damn it, it doesn't matter, just leave! I'm sure you have something better to do like... jacking off!"

Ginny gasped. "Eww Gohan, gross."

"Yah, Gohan. There's a lady here if you didn't notice. Learn some manners."

"GOD DAMN IT JUST LEAVE!" Gohan screamed. _Nothing's going my way._

"Sheesh, fine then Cooked Rice." With a pompous puff, Andres turned around and strutted away, looking for a girlfriend of his own. _I wouldn't get myself in so much trouble with a chick. I am after all, the master. Gohan? He's a noob. A romantically awkward noob._

_Cooked Rice? Why did he call me – oh, no he's getting it! He thinks he's smart huh? So he knows what Gohan means in Japanese. _Ginny laughed when she understood what Andres meant. _Damn you Andres, you're really getting it now!_

He recovered from his thoughtful state and grudgingly waited until Ginny's laugher died down. "Ok, as I was saying, Videl wouldn't have accepted me backing down because she felt it was personal." Ginny furrowed her forehead. This gave Gohan more unease, but he continued. "She felt it was personal because I called her father a buffoon of a martial artitst – "

"And why did you call the savior of the world a buffoon?" She icily asked.

Gohan groaned. He knew he was screwed. _Why do you hate so much Dende? After all I've done for you! I can't tell her why I called Hercule a buffoon, unless I want to spill out my life story and either freak her out or have her accuse me of being a liar. I'm screwed._

After some stammering, he meekly said, "I just did."

"So you had a go at her for no reason? Maybe you are a slimy, no good git."

"Come on Ginny – "

"Gohan, it's over." Gohan just looked at her shell-shocked; the words slowly were sinking in. She then smiled at him. "Until I see you apologize to Videl."

The words 'it's over' were still sinking in when she had stunned him yet again. After a few moments, his shock slowly subsided. "Earth to Gohan! Maybe I should've just left it at, 'it's over', for now and then come back the next day and tell you 'until I see you apologize to Videl.' I'm afraid I left you with a thought, and you don't have anywhere to put it."

Gohan finally broke out of his shock just in time. He whined. "Do I really have to apologize to that girl?"

Ginny looked at him ferociously. _Maybe I shouldn't have said that. _"Okay!" he anxiously agreed. "I'll do it."

She gave him a mocking smile. "And it isn't just to get me back? It's out the goodness of your heart?"

"Yah right," he muttered under his breath.

"What was that?"

Gohan jerked his head back towards Ginny anxiously. "Nothing, nothing, just looking down at the interesting floor. Haha." Ginny looked at him strangely. "Umm, yah it's out of the goodness of my heart."

Ginny smiled brightly at Gohan. "Great, well bye Gohan I'm going to talk with my friend Luna, later!"

"Wait Ginny! What about my hug and kiss?"

Ginny smirked at Gohan. "Was it that traumatic Gohan? Remember, we broke up."

Gohan smacked his forehead. "Oh yah."

She waved at him, and merrily skipped away to the stairs. He yearningly gazed at her disappearing figure. _What the hell is happening? I surprisingly got a girlfriend last night, then just one day later, today, I had to fix up her doubts about our relationship. Everything is peachy until a few hours later, I break up with her. This is ridiculous! _Gohan sighed. _At least it'll be easy to get back together with Ginny. I just have to apologize to Satan, even if she doesn't deserve it. But that ruins my plan about making her feel like crap! Ah, screw this I'll think about it later. Mr. Brain deserves a break, and my poor nerves really do too._

**In another timeline...**

A scream of lust was wildly flung into the air, adding to the fervent atmosphere of licentiousness. "OHHHH TRUNKS!"

"OHHHH FANGIRL!" Trunks's lustful cry of pleasure was further added to the growing atmospheric impiety.

This sizzling sexy action all started when a few minutes ago Trunks had been minding his own business at the Fangirls of Trunksclub meeting. He was leaning on the wall being his usual fabulous self when a petite, foxy, brunette made a move on him. Like Trunks always says, you don't have to make a move if you've got major mojo. And well, we all know that Trunks has major mojo. Who could resist his sexy mojo potatoes (not Shakey's that's for sure)? Or was it the fact that he was at an obsessive fangirls meeting dedicated to him? Nah, it definitely was the mojo.

A few more suggestive moves and they were soon in his love bed. "Are you a virgin?" the girl sweetly asked, as she adjusted the Fangirls of Trunks Camera to capture more of the Saiyan's chiseled pecs.

"Me?" Trunks indignantly asked, as if he were insulted. "Of course not!"

The brunette looked excited and childishly clapped. "Another fact that can be added to our website!" After taking some notes, she said, "There are rumors fresh from the gossip mill that you, Trunks Briefs, refer to yourself as, and I quote, 'The Big Bad Sexy Beast'. Are these rumors true or are they simply precarious gossip? Oh, I used a big word! Mom, dad I told you I'd amount to something!" Trunks couldn't help but roll his eyes; he knew thousands of more big words than her. But she had a point, her parents should be proud of her, not because of her sophisticated vocabulary, but because she was flaying her body to The Big Bad Sexy Beast.

"Yes that's true. Now enough with the grilling, let's get back to business."

The girl pouted. "But the website is business."

Trunks groaned. "No! I meant –" A distinct, shrill screech sonorously resonated throughout Capsule Corp. At the sound of the screech, Trunks with alacrity jumped out of the bed (once again naked) and hastily ran out of the room.

"Trunks!" the girl wantonly cried, and then ran after the naked Saiyan. She needed him for the first ever Trunks Sex Tape. The fan girl craze would reach an all-time, febrile high if they witnessed their favorite sex-star rock the house with one of the most influential fan girls of the rabid club.

"Not now whore, I have more important business to attend to!"

The fan girl was oblivious to the insult and kept running after her sex-icon.

She ran down the stairs and saw Trunks nervously looking at a plasma screen with a young girl and boy being displayed. "Trunks, what about me?"

"Shut up!"

"What's more important, T.V., or your die hard fans?"

"LEAVE THIS HOUSE OR I'LL PERSONALLY TELL THE Fangirls of TrunksCLUB TO DROP YOU!"

The girl's eyes widened with horror. She then quickly ran out the building, amusingly to Trunks, without her clothes. _I have great fangirls, don't I?_

The words 'It's over' broke Trunks out of his thoughts. "WHAT?! NO IT CAN'T BE! I CAN'T WATCH THIS ANYMORE! I AM A FAILURE OF A TEACHER OF THE ROMANTIC ARTS!" Unfortunately, for Trunks, he didn't hear the last part. Tears would be spilled that night in Capsule Corp. Big Bad Sexy Beast tears.

**Back in the normal timeline...**

With about twenty minutes left of lunch, Gohan decided to search for his Gryffindor friends' ki signature. He figured that he would probably have a lot of explaining to do and might as well get it out of the way.

Once he sensed them, he made his way towards the overcast courtyard. He saw Hermione, her face buried in Lockhart's book _Voyages with Vampires_. Harry and Ron were discussing something.

When Gohan was just a few feet away from the trio, they whirled their face towards him. Harry and Hermione looked at him inquisitively while Ron gave him a snarl. "Get out of here you Slytherin twat!" Ron yelled.

"Ron, don't be so rude. Just because he's in Slytherin it doesn't mean you can jump to conclusions," Hermione scolded. Harry nodded in agreement.

"Look Ron, I'm not that bad of a guy, okay? I'm a pretty nice guy actually. I'm not an evil git and you should know that from the train ride," Gohan said, trying to restore confidence in the stubborn wizard. Ron growled, shut his eyes, and crossed his arms firmly, clearly unbelieving. Coincidentally, the subtle breeze grew more violent in synchronism with Ron's angered reaction.

"Ron, give Gohan a second chance. He's already reassured us that he's exactly who he was on the train ride," Harry said.

Everyone sighed when Ron's stark coldness withered. The violent wind, in synchronism, dissipated into a subtle breeze. "I'll give him a second chance, but it doesn't mean I have to trust him," his voice grated. He whisked his body towards Gohan. "And if you step one foot out of line, you're out," Ron threatened, glaring holes into Gohan's eyes, trying to see into him and judge whether Gohan's heart was pure or tainted.

Gohan playfully smiled, urgently stood straight up, and gave him the reaction of a typical military soldier. "Sir, yes sir!" The joking posture contrasted nicely with the tense coldness that Ron had installed as the atmosphere. The air of tension was broken and Harry and Hermione burst out laughing at the look of surprise on Ron's previously dark face.

Despite his previous precarious cynicism towards Gohan, his features shifted to form a small smile and chuckle. Gohan smiled widely and chuckled as well.

The newly formed relaxed atmosphere was disturbed by a small mousy-haired boy with a camera dangling around his gangly neck. The four of them abruptly stopped their laughter and curiously looked at the small boy.

"I'm – I'm Colin Creevey, and –" he fell silent and the blood rushed up to his face as he stood transfixed, mulling over what he to say to the famous Harry Potter. He shifted uneasily but cleared his throat and continued at the sight of the encouraging looks given by his audience. "I'm in Gryffindor just like you Harry... And I would like to know if – if you would mind – I can take a picture of you," he hopefully said.

_One of Harry's fans _Gohan amusingly thought.

"You want a picture," Harry repeated perplexedly.

"So I can prove I've met you, Harry Potter the boy-who-lived." The boy raised his camera eagerly at Harry. "A boy in my dormitory told me he could develop the photos and make the pictures move," the boy said airlessly, clearly amazed by the powers of magic. "I would like to show it to my muggle dad; he couldn't believe it when I told him that I was going to Hogwarts, so I'm taking pictures to show him. Maybe one of your friends can take a picture of the two of us. Then, could you sign it?"

"_Autographs? _Potter, you're giving out autographs?" Malfoy's voice was loud and scornful, echoing throughout the courtyard. He and his cronies pugnaciously stood behind Colin.

"Line up for the once in a life time even!" Malfoy derisively yelled at the crowd. "Potter is giving out valuable autographs!"

"Shut up Malfoy for once!" Harry roared at him, clearly agitated by Malfoy's usual belligerent attitude.

Gohan smirked at Malfoy. "It seems like I did a good job last night setting your hair aflame," Gohan amusingly pointed at the one grey frizzled side of Malfoy's sleek blonde hair. A familiar scowl crawled up on Malfoy's face. "Maybe this time I should try to aim a little bit higher both figuratively and literally."

Malfoy sneered. "Ha! You simply lost control that time. Apparently, you're not exactly great at magic, it was just an accident."

Gohan rolled his eyes and gave him a derisive sneer. "Accident! You actually believed that bull? Well, I have to hand it to you Malfoy, I've never met someone with such a small brain in a big head."

Harry, Hermione, and Ron burst out laughing at this. Malfoy's face turned bright red with ferocity. His cronies began pugnaciously cracking their knuckles, just waiting for a brawl to ensue. "What's a Slytherin doing with a bunch of Gryffindor's anyway?" Mafoy viciously questioned.

"Trying to switch the topic? I guess that means you acknowledge what I say." Malfoy was boiling now. "With that out of the way, I guess I can answer your question." He sent another smirk towards Malfoy. "It's simple really, they are my friends regardless of their house placement because houses should not divide us. The principality of the belief for houses is that we are placed in a house to meet people similar to us in certain characteristics, in hopes that we can better hone and develop our attributes with the placidity of a less turbulent companionship. Unfortunately, different houses tend to promote division and unjustified intolerance of the other houses, especially with those that greatly differ. This can lead to precarious assumptions and even scornful bigotry making it a place ripe for flagrant belligerence sundering ties of acquaintances with a simple shout of a hat. 'So what if they're different from us, it doesn't mean we can't be friends' is the way we should think. What are we without diversity? Nothing but boring modules of clay filling up the world with dull, uncreative ideas of similarity that would destroy that which is the beauty of humanity, the beauty of a unique individuality that only diversity can create. We are a myriad of uniqueness and diversity is not our anathema."

Malfoy ceased not his infuriated expression, but the Saiyan's friends nodded in agreement, proud of their friend. "Beautifully said Gohan, I couldn't have said it better myself," Hermione proudly exclaimed.

"Did you follow him?" Ron murmured to Harry.

"No mate, I didn't. I got lost after 'they are my friends.'"

As Malfoy was about to say something, but he was interrupted.

"What's all this about giving out autographs Harry?" Gilderoy Lockhart said while striding towards them.

_Oh great, Gildmydick Lockfart_

"Don't your remember our talk Harry?" Lockhart lectured.

Harry turned a shade of red and grumbled out a yes.

"I shouldn't be doing this, but what the heck, just this one time. Come on then Mr. Creevy," Lockhart encouraged, and beamed his toothy smile at Colin. "And we'll both sign it."

Malfoy sneered at Harry, his lips growing taut with pleasure.

Colin's hands fumbled with the camera, extremely excited at the prospect of snapping a picture of two famous wizards. He regained his composure and took the picture, just as the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch.

"Off you go, move along students," Lockhart said, and took Harry off into the castle.

Ron and Gohan looked at each other unbelievingly. "What a pompous prick!" they both exclaimed in unison.

Hermione scowled at their response. "He probably just has something important to tell Harry."

Ron shook his head without assent. "What he wants to do is lecture Harry about something Lockhart himself fabricated."

Hermione and Gohan looked at Ron inquisitively. "Harry told me that Lockhart thought it was a mistake to have posed with him at Diagon Alley because according to him 'it went straight to his young head.'"

Gohan snorted aloud, warranting a disapproving glare from Hermione. "What?"

The Saiyan was drifting in and out of sleep during History of Magic. He couldn't believe how mind-numbingly dreary the class was. Professor Binns was dreadfully boring. The young Saiyan would prefer to fight for his life instead of sitting through the class. At least that stirred some emotions. _This_ _boredom... or high chance of death? High chance of death sounds more appealing._

"This will wake you up Gohan," Andres murmured. The Spanish boy had been trying to make conversation with Gohan the entire time, but the Saiyan drifted in and out of consciousness throughout the class. "Look at a trick my parent's taught me Gohan," Andres slyly said. Gohan looked towards the place he was pointing towards. A smile steadily grew on his face.

Without one whisper, the royal pants of French prince were pulled down. _I see London, I see France, I see the French Prince's royal underpants! Haha that doesn't get old for me. _The look on the prince's face was priceless when he realized what happened, and the students around him broke in fits of hilarity. The old ghost didn't even seem to notice the commotion, and continued with his boring monologue.

That lifted Gohan's spirits. "Now that you're finally awake," Gohan gave him a playful pout. "Okay, I understand that it was hard to stay awake. Now, I'd like to tell you about the bird I met at lunch."

"I'm sorry Andres, I'm not really interested in birds," Gohan sardonically said.

"You know what I mean Gohan." Andres gave him a weak glare.

"So how is she?" Gohan uninterestingly inquired. He was busy thinking about how to get himself out of hurting his own pride by meeting Ginny's demands. His plans were so far doddering at best.

Andres frowned disappointedly. "You don't seem very interested Gohan. Maybe it would quip your interests if I told you she's a third year?"

"Malarkey!" _There's no way I'm going to apologize to her without a plan. _

"Nope, just a testament to my sexiness, even at such a young age. You can call me a sex prodigy," Andres pompously said, his ego turgid.

Gohan grinned at him. "Pretty good Andres, but still not as good as my sexiness."

Andres snorted. "You're single! You couldn't even last more than a day with a girl."

Gohan huffed. "I'll have her back."

"As much as I think you like Ginny, I'm not sure how you're going to go out and apologize to your despised enemy, unless you're going to blackmail her or something."

Gohan snapped, startling Andres. "That's it Andres!"

The Spanish boy curiously eyed him. "What is this it you speaketh of? Will this 'it' determine the fate of the entire universe? Start a war that will tear galaxies apart, destroy entire planets, and send a final death wound to the romantic view the innate good in all of us?" he sensationally asked.

"How droll Andres. Just say 'what's it' and cut out the overdramatic crap." Gohan rolled his eyes.

Andres mocked fake pain. "The candid critique! My heart can't take it anymore... curse you Gohan Son!"

"Great acting Andres, if I can give you a little more critique, it's this. Your acting is a bit to, how can I put it? Ostentatious. Yes that's the word," he professionally remarked.

"I applaud your professional attitude Mr. Son. You did not let your usual pugnacious attitude towards me affect you, rather, you gave me an eloquent critique filled with perspicacity of knowledge."

Gohan mock bowed. "That is what I do my best, Mr. Pires, journalism. I am without bias and take my work seriously."

"That is very true Mr. Son. Now Mr. Son, what was this 'it' you spoke of?"

Gohan gave him a professional grin. "Ahh, that 'it' is blackmail."

Andres smirked. "I like my thinking Mr. Son, blackmail."

"I like your thinking too, that's why I'm going to blackmail Ms. Satan with some _embarrassing _pics I have of her," he wickedly said.

"What are its contents Mr. Son?" Andres questioned hungrily. Gohan shook his head causing Andres to pout. "Why can't you tell me?"

"I promised Hagrid I wouldn't."

"Fine, but I still like my thinking."

"I know Mr. Pires, who doesn't?"

"How does it work?"

Gohan humorously sneered at him. "Mr. Pires likes his thinking, even if he doesn't know what he's thinking. It's like saying you like your car model, even if you don't know what's your car model."

Andres gave him a dark scowl. "I know you Mr. Son. If I say I didn't mean it that way, you'll tell me you didn't mean it that way either and start a long monologue about the innocence of playful teasing. If I play along with you, I risk embarrassment. So what the hell am I suppose to do? The only safe path is to say nothing."

"I guess that means you agree." Silence. "I'll assume that's a yes."

"God damn it Gohan!"

"Language Pires. Now, before I was rudely interrupted –"

"You were the one who teased me!" Andres sonorously said.

"Shut up!" A Ravenclaw next to them demanded.

"Pires, you need to learn when to be silent and when to be loud." Gohan paused and his grin broadened at the sight of Andres's scowl darkening. "As I was saying, I'm going to blackmail Videl. If she doesn't want me to sell copies of the pictures I made, then she's going to have to agree to say sorry to me, and afterwards inform Ginny that I apologized to her, even when I didn't."

Andres's scowl quickly became a smirk. "I like your application of my thinking."

"And I like your thinking."

"We're great together aren't we Mr. Son?"

"Yes we are Mr. Pires, yes we are."

"So how did your day go Ginny?"

"It went pretty well Gohan. You already know what happened during Potions, and I think you can imagine what happened during History of Magic."

Gohan chuckled. "I sure can, Andres had to make the royal French prince's pants go down to wake me up from my boredom."

Ginny gave him an amused smile. "So it was Andres who did it. Tell him I said thank you."

"Sure."

A snide voice resonated through the room. "Mr. Son and Ms. Weasley, do not talk. This is detention not Happy Hour." Gohan and Ginny looked at each other with the exact same disgusted look. Amused at each other's expression, they both snickered.

Ginny then slowly moved her head to Gohan's ear. "I'll be looking forward to being back together Gohan," Ginny coyly whispered, tickling his ear consequently.

Gohan slyly grinned. "So am I."

Gohan patiently waited for an hour to pass, and once it had, he carefully rose from his large bed, made it appear as his figure was still in bed, and discreetly sneaked out of dormitory. Once he got out into the pitch-black halls, he used his blazing swiftness to avoid Filch and snuck out of the large school.

Instant Transmission was not an option for Gohan. He had realized that the magical wards prevented such transportation. He had to leave the old fashion way, and go deep into the forests to not be audible or visible.

The Saiyan floated up from the shadowy grass, and slowly flow towards the east into the mysterious depths of the Forbidden Forests. It was time to train.

It was very early in the morning. Rays of weak light gingerly wisped through the large semi-elliptical windows, distorting the light's hue, turning it into a blazing golden flame. Gohan explored the ardent halls of the school, discovering new things every few seconds. He wanted to learn everything about the school, and he decided to do this quite often to familiarize himself with it. He maintained an air of countenance as he strolled.

All of sudden, he noticed a small figure walking towards him. It seemed like a girl as she gradually strolled closer. Gohan's eyes flickered with contempt when once she was close enough to recognize. Videl Satan was walking towards him, almost timidly. Some pain was evidently etched onto her features, taking Gohan by surprise.

_She really does feel bad. _A few seconds later, they were face to face, Videl's eyes wary of Gohan's; she shyly stared down at the stone floor. Videl took a deep breath and gently said, "I'd like to start over Gohan. I thought it over, and I realized that I gave you a reason to get angry with me. I wasn't exactly polite when I told you my intention to say 'get the hell out of my table'. Even with my rude behavior, you remained cool and brushed it off. You wanted to make conversation, but I remained silent, rudely ignoring you." She took another breath, raised her head to look at Gohan's coal like eyes, and meekly continued her apology. "I gave you a reason to blow up at me, and I would've done the same thing if it were me. If anything, it would've been if someone acted like that towards me. So, I'd like to say I'm sorry Gohan."

Her eyes tore away from the unwavering eyes of Gohan Son. _Gosh, should I be doing this? She seems so... nice all of the sudden... _Confusion lurked behind his callous black windows. Vengeance reared its ugly head and began an internal war inside the Saiyan.

A few seconds passed. Gohan finally made a decision, but it was an erroneous one. He made his first real mistake in the chessboard of life. Gohan misjudged the situation by miscalculating the danger of the masked complexion in his musing. He gave her a dark grin, perplexing the guilty raven-haired girl.

"I accept your warm apology. I realize that you want to start over, and hopefully you will feel the same way once I have told you this," Gohan calmly began. Videl's soft features instinctively morphed into an alarmed expression, displaying her confusion about the person in front of her. Friend or enemy? The enigma in front of her could be either.

"You are to tell Ginny Weasley that I have apologized to you. I won't apologize to you however, because I don't think you deserve it."

"Why do you want me to do that?"

"She broke up with me because I got into a fight with you and wants me to apologize."

Confusion was swapped with disgust. "So you want me to lie to her so you can get her back?"

"Of course, I already told you that you don't deserve an apology," Gohan icily replied, teetering on crest of the clift of composure.

"I'm not going to lie to her! If she thinks you have to apologize to me, and you couldn't argue your way out of it, then apologize to me. Even if I acted rude, you should know that the virtuous man does not swap hate with hate, rather, he swaps hate with love."

"To hell with that!" He ferociously barked, dropping down into the violent waters of flagrant malice.

Her angry gaze tightened, and her lips quivered with vengeance. Her blue eyes grew increasingly stormy with vindictiveness. "You are such an egotistical asshole! I'm not going to lie to her, she's better off away from your arrogance!

Gohan composed himself, and threw her an eerie leer, sending shivers down Videl's spine. "Oh really? Well Videl, I have some embarrassing pictures of you right here in my pocket." Videl's eyes widened, her blue eyes were mixed with shock and disgust. The Saiyan's fingers reached into his black robes and almost elegantly pulled out several pictures. He vaingloriously flipped them to be properly positioned to show off his tool for blackmail.

"You bastard!"

He smirked at the agitated Videl. "I think you're smart enough to piece it together yourself Videl," he sneered. Videl's face was now flushed with anger. "Carry on lass, do as I command, Ms. Satan," he coolly said, his smirk broadening as Videl trembled, boiling over with a deep loathing for the Saiyan before her, his smugness increasing her incandescent heat waves of abhorrence.

Videl Satan did not roll over for anyone without putting up a fight. Especially smug boys who thought they could make her. She couldn't believe that she had felt guilty over the tub of arrogance that had blackmailed her. She had given him an apology, and then he blackmailed her to lie to his ex-girlfriend just so he wouldn't hurt his pride.

After the confrontation, she exploded in the girl's bathroom, throwing obscenities in the air. Moaning Myrtle agitated her even more with her teasing. Soon, Videl was flinging insults towards Moaning Myrtle sending off the girl ghost to wallow in misery.

An hour passed, as she stomped through the halls, looking to complete her mission, but still get her revenge. Videl Satan would not lose. She didn't accept losing. Losing to a boy like Gohan was even worse for her. He reaffirmed her belief that all boys were jerks.

So far, she had been unsuccessful in her quest to find Ginny Weasley. Videl didn't know her personally, but Ginny was the first one sorted and Videl was good at remembering the first thing and last thing in anything.

Erasa and Sharpener were probably worried about Videl. She hadn't given them a heads up so they probably were conducting a professional investigation at that moment. She snorted at the thought, why they were so protective of a very capable friend was beyond her. They would defend her even if they obviously had less of a chance of winning, but hey, that's what friends are for.

As she continued to stomp her way through the halls, she saw a head of long flaming red hair. _That's her. _She upped her pace and the stomp disappeared, replaced by a calm stride. "You're Ginny Weasley, right?"

Ginny looked up curiously at her and slowly nodded. "Yes I am, and you're Videl Satan?" Ginny smiled at her, patiently waiting for what she thought would be Videl recounting Gohan's apology.

"That's me. Gohan explained the situation and he told me that he was sorry." Ginny's eyes sparkled and her smiled widened. _She seems so happy, but this is what's best for her. _"He said sorry to me but I was blackmailed." _The git didn't say that I couldn't mention him blackmailing me._

Ginny's face was pallor with shock and her eyes grew watery with wretchedness. "He blackmailed you," she breathlessly whispered.

"He did," Videl gently said. She cursed silently when her face grew even whiter. "I'm sorry that you have to go through this but it's for your own good, you know? You don't want to be dating a git like him." She put her arm consolingly around Ginny, trying her best to soothe Ginny's grief.

Gradually, Ginny's face regained her lost color. Then a crimson red sheet of fury swathed the pale sheet of shock. "That bloody... bastard!" Ginny snapped. "You're right Videl, I shouldn't be dating a git like him! I'm going up to his face and tell him it's over for good. Thank you Videl for telling me that." Videl gave her a slight nod and a reassuring pat on the back.

"GOHAN!" An infuriated scream was sent paddling through the hallways. _Ginny? Oh no! _Gohan gulped, his pale face turning whiter at the sight of Ginny. The Saiyan had never seen Ginny redder before, and it wasn't the good red either. The irate girl stomped her way through the crowd, out to get her ex-boyfriend and give him pain. _Why Kami? Why? What have I done? Unless... Videl squealed on me! Damn you Satan I'm coming after you once I deal with Ginny and calm her down. You think you've won, don't you? Well I'll be getting the last laugh right now. Ginny can't believe you over me.s_

The furious girl's livid expression was one of an appalled disgust scrunched together with a gargantuan of contempt, and festooned with writhing fury. Her eyes were scimitars buffeting the sordid boy before her hoping to doff any such filth from her. A febrile miasma of hate radiating from Ginny made Gohan's confident countenance switch to conspicuous uneasiness. His mouth grew dry and his cheek twitched; he averted his eyes that felt heavy with discomfort. He had a portent feeling that he was going to lose her, because of a simple mistake on his chessboard of life.


	7. The Wrackspurts in your Brain

Disclaimer: Guess what I don't own and receive a pat on the back

Disclaimer: Guess what I don't own and you receive a pat on the back.

Luna is appearing in this chapter, because whenever I think of Luna now Evanna Lynch always pops up in my mind, appearance wise, Luna will look like how she is in the movies.

Andres sorrowfully looked at his heart broken friend. Gohan regretfully sighed for seemingly the hundredth time as he halfheartedly ate his food. The Saiyan was barely eating, and that in itself was a cause for alarm.

Rumors had rampantly flown throughout Hogwarts about the breakup. Gohan apathetically confirmed the rumors when Andres had confronted him about the matter. The Spanish boy knew that not to further press on, unless he wanted a further upset Saiyan.

Half an hour ago, Ginny tore through Gohan like paper, rendering him speechless throughout her livid tirade. She had called him countless awful names. Every single irate word thrown at the Saiyan made him more dejected, more depressed, and more ashamed. Guilt was overflowing in his heart, and his depression worsened when he realized that Ginny was right.

People came up to Gohan, prodding him to speak up about the disaster. Andres defended his friends and told all them to buzz off because Gohan clearly was not in a state to make conversation. Some snickers and finger pointing was common throughout that breakfast, and every one of them was met by a ruthless Spanish glare that quickly shut up the offender.

Andres could not take the wallowing dejection that Gohan plagued on himself so he spoke up, in hopes that he could comfort his friend at least a bit. "Dude, I know you must feel like complete shit." Andres paused and looked at the somber expression on Gohan's face; he was seemingly listening, thankfully. "And you should rightfully feel guilty for acting like an asshole. Hell, I feel guilty for coming up with the idea in the first place." No response.

"I'll understand if you want to be by yourself for a few days, but don't take this too far. Don't act like this week after week. You have to let it go eventually, acknowledge your mistake, and apologize to Ginny. I don't want to see you like this, wallowing in misery over one mistake. You made a mistake, but don't hold yourself accountable for it too long. Mistakes come and go, and forgiveness is lasting until the next one."

Andres sighed in relief when Gohan's dark features softened somewhat and his sagging head perked up. Still, the Saiyan kept his gaze on a window. "Andres, do you think that what I did makes me no better than the rest of the Slytherins? I blackmailed Videl and tried to trick Ginny, it seems exactly like what the stereotypical Slytherin would do."

"Hell no, just from the few days I've known you, I can say with 100 certainty that you aren't a piece of shit. I know you're a great person, but like me, sometimes your faults can get in the way and give off bad vibes to other people. One mistake does not make you a bad person."

Gohan nodded, turned his gaze toward Andres, and gave his friend a weak smile. "You're right Andres, thanks. I have to apologize to Ginny as soon as possible. She probably, and rightfully, won't accept my apology, but I'll as sincerely apologize to her and hopefully, with time, I can mend our sundered ties."

Andres gave his friend a reassuring nod and smile. They made some conversation about their upcoming DADA class. They weren't exactly excited about being in a room with a big-headed wizard and rabid fangirls. "Don't you hate it that every time he gives his damn creepy smile, the girls always blush like crazy? It's maddening!"

Gohan nodded. "It's ridiculous, he might be a great wizard, but he's still an arrogant twat."

Whispers all of the sudden filled the hall much to the confusion of the two friends. They turned around and saw another irate Weasley. Ron Weasley to be exact. Gohan tried to calm himself for the situation by half humorously noting that Weasleys looked like ripe tomatoes when they were angry. _I have a strange for french fries all of the sudden. Stupid magic laws don't let me make conjure french fries. _

Andres shouldered his friend. "You stepped in shit with your right foot, why oh why did you have to step in more shit with your left?"

Gohan shrugged. "I was stupid for a few seconds and the shits were right next to each other."

"At least you have some protection from the tomato, his friends are coming so maybe they'll be rational and make sure he doesn't do anything stupid."

Gohan nodded when he saw that behind Ron were a worried Harry and Hermione. As they came closer, the Saiyan further braced himself for an ear-wrenching diatribe.

There stood a fuming Ron Weasley, slowly boiling over, about to burst. "I warned you! Now you've blown your second chance and you've made yourself an enemy you bloody git," Ron fervently snarled.

All eyes were locked onto the scene. Gohan peripherally glanced to see whether Ginny was also looking. Dismayingly, he saw that she wasn't even at the Gryffindor table.

He continued dogging at him. "You acted exactly like the slimy Slytherin you are. You shouldn't have seduced my sister in the first place."

That was over the line for Gohan. Ron had been correct up until that point. Gohan's guilty eyes quickly grew into an indelible frost. "I did act like a slimy git, but I would not stoop so low as to seduce your sister, ok? I apologize for my deplorable actions, and I want to apologize to Ginny. Even if both of you don't accept it, I'll understand, but I will always cling to the hope that someday we can, if not be friends, be on at least friendly terms."

Ron just scowled and tilted his chin up. "Stop trying to hide behind a nice demeanor. I know what's really down there Son, and I'm going to make sure you pay for trying to trick all of us. _Eat Slugs!_"

"_Protego!" _

The jet of green light was reflected back towards Ron, propelling Ron a feet or two.

"Ron! Ron! Are you all right?" Hermione squealed. Harry and Hermione couldn't help but scowl angrily at Gohan even if they knew he was just protecting himself.

Ron opened his mouth to speak but instead of words, he gave a resonant belch and several slugs trickled out of his mouth onto the floor.

The Slytherin table was caught spell bound with laugher at the dismaying situation a Gryffindor was in, brought upon by a Slytherin.

"Harry, we have to go take him to Madam Pomfrey!" Hermione anxiously said. Harry curtly bobbed his head.

"That is not necessary, I will take him," Professor McGonagall's stern voice declared. "But Mr. Weasley, I'm ashamed that you could not control your temper better. Fifty points from Gryffindor and a detention Mr. Weasley."

"But Professor..." Ron croaked out and subsequently vomited more slugs.

"No buts Mr. Weasley! Now come here, I'll take you to Madam Pomfrey." Ron complied and he left without a second glance.

After Ron left, Hermione shifted her gaze onto Gohan. "You, mister, are going to have a lot of explaining to do during lunch."

"Ok, ok, I'll do it." With a satisfied nod, Hermione and Harry left.

"Things aren't exactly looking up are they?"

"No Andres, things are slowly spiraling down to hell. I'll have to build a staircase to get out of hell."

"First you should clean up the shits you stepped in."

"Yah, small things to bigger things I guess." _Why does my gut tell me this is going to get even worse?_

The first DADA class was a complete farce in Gohan's opinion. Lockhart had really outdone himself in the arrogance compartment. Nearly the entire class time was spent on taking a stupid quiz about Lockhart's books that were, well, just about Lockhart. And Lockhart? Well he's of no substance whatsoever, so the quiz was meaningless, ridiculous, and plain bullshit. Three pages of bullshit to be exact.

Andres cupped his mouth. "Pss, Gohan, can you give me the answers to this god forsaken quiz. I know your secretly in love with Lockhart and know all the answers."

Gohan glared at his friend. "I'm not secretly in love with Lockhart!" he growled.

"You told everyone but your best buddy?"

"No! I'm not in love period!"

"More like exclamation mark."

"Stop being a smartass."

"But I'm asking for the answers," Andres said with mock pain.

"You're doing it again!"

"Whatever do you speak of? I simply want answers."

"Well you're not getting them because I've got a little problem with a thing called cheating. Ever heard of it?"

Andres smirked. "Yah I've heard of it."

"And what do you think about it?"

"It's pretty bad unless it's on a bullshit quiz like this."

Gohan scowled. "Cheating is wrong in any circumstance."

"Stop being a goody goody, Gohan."

"Hey! You know I'm not a goody goody."

"I know, I just want to get some answers."

"If it's so bullshit why do you care?"

"Because it's a quiz."

"But didn't you tell me fudge Lockhart, I don't give a fudge about his class."

"No."

"Yes you did," Gohan accused.

"No I didn't, I said 'fuck Lockhart, I don't give a fuck about his class.'"

Gohan grimaced. "Same thing," he said flatly.

"It's not the same thing. Your version was the goody goody version." Gohan groaned.

A few minutes passed. "Oh listen to this one Gohan," Andres whispered. "_Who was my first girlfriend_?"

"I feel sorry for the bird that dated him."

"Don't be. She probably didn't even see through his bullshit because that oh so dreamy smile of his!" Andres feigned love towards Lockhart. "Honestly, if I had a say in his personal life, I would not allow him to breed. Imagine a mini-me Lockhart." Gohan shuddered at the thought.

A few minutes of silence passed. "Lookie here Gohan, Question 34. _When anyone meets me, what's the first thing they think? _

A look of thoughtful crossed Gohan's expression and the brusquely broke when Gohan snorted. "That question is interesting because it made me realize that Lockhart is the type of person that when you first meet, you immediately don't like. But when you get to know him, you hate him."

"So true."

"Excuse me boys but please be quiet. I know you both want to know the answers to my wonderful life, but you can't go around cheating," Lockhart merrily said with his usual beaming smile. The boys mocked tears at the sight of it.

"My eyes, my beautiful eyes," Andres whimpered.

"Don't worry Andres, I'll save you from that monster."

"Monster? More like a pink teddy bear."

"A monster pink teddy bear."

"Same thing."

A few more minutes passed and Gohan was the first to turn in the quiz. He was confident that he got all the answers correct. He was so confident that he was almost disgusted that he knew all the squalid filth in Lockhart's books.

Two minutes later Andres finished and turned in the quiz. "I can't wait till Lockhart sees mine," Andres whispered to Gohan. Gohan glanced at his friend inquisitively. "You know the questions we discussed?"

Gohan nodded. "Well, I put our flattering conclusions on there." Gohan snickered.

After all the students had handed in the quiz, Lockhart looked at them with tepid desultoriness that strangely was mixed with his usual jovial demeanor. _Even when it appears that no one gave a damn about reading his books, he still can look happy and disappointed! What the hell?_

After scanning a few papers, Lockhart stopped at one and his smile flipped upside down. Andres and Gohan snickered. "Mr. Pires! You will have detention this evening!" Lockhart said, slightly angry but yet, slightly happy?

"What'd he do?" a curious Slytherin asked.

"Nothing that should concern you."

"Nonsense Professor Lockhart, don't be so modest!"

"You will not tell anyone or I will send you to the headmaster for punishment."

Andres innocently smiled at him. "Don't worry Professor, I'm good at keeping secrets!" he said a little too enthusiastically. "Yah right," he said under his breath. Gohan tried his best to suppress his snickers.

Lockhart brightly smiled again, clearly believing Andres. _What a fool! _Gohan sourly thought.

"Very well Andres." Lockhart kept on grading the rest of the quizzes while the class whispered to each other.

"Look at Videl."

"She's glaring at me, what's new?"

"But are you going to apologize?"

Gohan shrugged. "I guess, and I'll burn the pictures in front of her face if I have to. She was actually nice to me for once and then I treated her like crap."

"I'm proud of you, not letting such hard feelings in get in your way of proper judgment! My boy is finally growing up," Andres sardonically exclaimed, then proceeded to feign tears.

"Oh shut up you melodramatic wuss."

Andres looked at him indignantly. "I object! I'm not a wuss, I'm as macho as you can get."

"Sure..." Gohan trailed off and rolled his eyes. "I'm sure that's exactly what your girlfriend told you."

"How'd you know?"

"I'm a natural. Anyway, what house is your girlfriend in anyway?"

"Ravenclaw."

"She's got brains, but what about beauty?" Gohan humorously asked.

The Spanish boy smugly smirked. "She's got beauty all right. Have you heard of Cho Chang?" Gohan gawked at his friend. "Gohan Son is speechless! I will always remember this momentous moment! "

"I wish you were speechless sometimes, hell sometimes I wish you were mute for the entire day."

"Hey!"

" Now, picking up where we left as if nothing ever happened. Of course, I've heard of her. She's the most popular third year in the school. I've seen her too and she is quite a looker. Congratulations my suave Andres, I never would of imagined that you were that good!"

Andres sexily raised his eyebrows, then looked at his scrunched up hand nonchalantly, examining any possible imperfections. "Ahh it was nothing, I just worked my magic and bam, she's my girl."

"Silence now children." He then gave a weakly scolding glare.

Andres whispered, "That's a weak sauce glare."

"With sprinkles on top." The boys sniggered.

"Tut, tut – hardly any of you remembered that my favorite color is lilac. I say so in _Year with the Yeti. _(Rowling 100) But very good Mr. Son, it seems like you've got all the questions right." Lockhart's voice was full of praise.

"Too bad," Gohan sarcastically said under his breath. More Spanish sniggers.

"Yes my favorite muggle singer is Celine Dion. Now let's look at the last question. Yes my birthday is 1955 March 2. Let me read the last part as you wrote it. 'Your ideal gift would be a new set of fancy curlers to fulfill your fag dreams of beautiful golden locks of girly hair' that's exactly right Mr. Son."

An uproar of laugher filled the class, perplexing Lockhart. He reread what Gohan wrote and blushed madly. For the first time ever, his smile was gone and replaced with a menacing scowl.

"Holy shit Gohan, that's not a weak sauce scowl with sprinkles on top!" Andres breathlessly remarked.

"Gohan Son! Detention and fifty points from Slytherin!" Lockhart's vociferous voice announced. Lockhart's forget-me-not blue eyes fixed firmly on the Saiyan.

Gohan gave Lockhart a superfluous sulking frown. "But I only got the question wrong!"

"Insulting a teacher and derogatory remarks are not allowed!"

"Does that mean I can't give you the curlers I was going to buy for your birthday?" Another uproar of laugher filled the room. Lockhart attempted to calm the boisterous class but to no avail. He was fraught with embarrassment and was glad that the bell rang almost immediately after the question.

"Good one Gohan, good one!" Andres clumsily said through his bubbling mirth.

"Thanks, it was worth the detention. But I have to get going, I need to apologize to Videl. I'll see you during Charms ok?"

"Yah that's fine, good luck though, you'll need it."

"Thanks for being sunshine and lollipops," Gohan sarcastically said.

Andres gave him a sheepish grin. "I'm right and you know it."

"Yah, I know. See you soon Andres."

"Yup, see yuh." Gohan departed and went jogging towards Videl's ki signature.

"Wait Videl!" Videl tensed up at the sound of her enemy's voice and refrained from turning around. She sped up her pace, along side her friends. A few seconds later, she felt his hand clasp firmly on her shoulder.

"What do you want?" She snarled.

Erasa glared at Gohan. "Stop bothering Videl you jerk!"

"Yah dweeb, or I'll kick your ass!'

Gohan awkwardly chuckled. "All I want is to say sorry, I did a terrible thing and I understand that you're angry."

"You're not getting my forgiveness," Videl said, her tone flat.

"And I understand that, all I wanted to do was apologize to you and inform you that I can give you the pictures so you can burn them."

Videl eyed at him suspiciously, but shrugged and held out her hand. Gohan gave her the pictures, and immediately the trio left without a word.

_Why did I have to act like such a dick?_

The young Saiyan had found an empty classroom after dinner. He had read that many classrooms were left unoccupied, so he decided to sneak away to find one to accomplish what he wanted to do.

He sat at a creaky desk, then pulled out his Magic Veggie Ball."Vegeta!" Gohan yelled at his MVB. He patiently waited, but a few seconds elapsed and nothing happened. "VEGETA," he yelled louder. Nothing. _Damn it! _Out of nowhere, he heard a din of fervent roars.

"STOP YOUR DAMN LAUGHING WOMAN, GET THIS PINK DRESS OFF OF ME... AN AFTEREFFECT FROM THE HELL BALL FOR NOT CONSOLING THE BRAT? WHAT! NO ONE MAKES ME STOP MY TRAINING!"

_WHAT THE HELL? _Gohan fell out of the desk and started laughing madly. _A pink dress! Oh Kami I'll never let him forget this! _Gohan tried to compose himself when he heard a snarl and realized that Vegeta was huffily standing in the black background of the ball.

"What do you want brat? And why are you laughing?" the image of Vegeta, slick with sweat, growled as Gohan amusingly smirked at him.

"Oh, Veggie Head, what's this about you wearing a pink dress?" Gohan derisively asked.

A vein popped out on Vegeta's head and pulsated with anger. "Nothing! You must've become crazier than I thought with those whack jobs around," he scathingly replied.

"Please Vegeta, I heard you from my Magic Veggie Ball. Frankly, I think it's a nice change from those awfully dull spandex you walk around with all the time. The pink dress is a nice contrast to your skin, you know what I mean?"

Vegeta looked like he was about to blast the MVB to an oblivion but he controled himself, an arduous task for the Saiyan Prince. _There are probably even worse consequences if Vegeta dares to break my Magic Veggie Ball. _

The Prince of Saiyans simply huffed and firmly crossed his arms. "What do you want brat? I have to return to my training as soon as possible."

Gohan's smirk evaporated. "Truthfully, I don't know where to go to Vegeta, and I've argued this out in my mind strenuously. I'm not sure whether I should follow Future Trunks' advice on this matter or –"

Vegeta flagrantly glared at him, irritated by the lack of straightforwardness. "Hurry up brat!"

Gohan smirked again. "Jeez Veggie head, are you sure your not PMsing, you're a little bitchy today."

Vegeta's hair turned blonde and eyes green. "SHUT UP YOU DAMN BRAT AND TELL ME WHAT THE HELL YOU WANT!"

Gohan pouted. "Fine then Vegeta, you ruin all the fun."

Vegeta snorted at that and went back to his normal form. "I make all the fun."

"Sure Veggie keep on saying that. Ok, so I wanted to ask you about a girl that I really like."

Vegeta arrogantly smirked. "Girl trouble? Oh, you've definitely come to the right place."

"Not just possibly the right place, but our situations are kind of similar. Bulma thought you were an evil bastard when we came back to earth after Freeza, right?"

"Yes, she was afraid to even live in the same house as me!" Vegeta cackled. "Good times, good times, I never had more power to strike fear in her than then."

"Reminiscing Veggie Head now that you're her monkey bitch?"

BOOM! _Alright! Super Angry Saiyan transformation, he'll be something like 'if you screw with me again, I'll blow some shit up and kick your ass blah blah blah.'_

"IF YOU SCREW WITH ME AGAIN, I'LL BLOW THIS FUCKING BALL AND GO OVER TO YOUR DAMN SCHOOL AND TEACH YOUR HALF BREED ASS A LESSON!"

Gohan yawned, further enraging the Saiyan. "Honestly Vegeta, you're becoming predictable. It gets kinda boring, you know?"

Vegeta calmed down a bit, but still was extremely angry. He knew if he continued with his diatribe, he would be playing right into the cunning demi-saiyan's hands.

"Now that we are back to our previous courteous behavior..." Vegeta snorted again. "I'll tell you about my situation. Basically, if I simplify the situation, it's like this. I tricked a girl and she got pissed off at me and doesn't want to be with me anymore because she thinks I'm an asshole. So what do you recommend I do?"

"I say don't waste your time with the girl, if she get's pissed off over a stupid trick, who knows what'll it be like living with her."

Gohan glared at Vegeta. "It wasn't just a trick, it was worse."

Vegeta raised an eyebrow at him. "So the warrior side has finally come out of you."

"Not that bad! Let's just say she has a right to feel how she's feeling. This is similar to your previous situation with Bulma, correct?" Vegeta curtly nodded. "Well then what did you do to get Bulma?"

A creepy dark grin crept up on Vegeta's hard features. When I say creepy, I mean creepy. It was like an insane serial killer's grin after killing his victim. Gohan gulped nervously. _I knew this was a bad idea! Why second self, why?_

"I got the woman in my bed that's what. In the beginning, she tried to slap, bite me, smack me whatever, to get out of my grasp. But one minute in, she ravaged me with sex. Are you planning to employ my method, boy?" Vegeta eerily smirked at him.

"Oh Kami, why did I have to ask you Vegeta? Even Mirai Trunks' advice is better than yours."

Vegeta snorted. "Nonsense, the only action he gets is from slutty fangirls."

Gohan chuckled. "I know, I've met them one time and it was..." Gohan shuddered. "Terrible."

"I never thought there could be anyone stupider than your father but I was proved wrong when I met them."

Gohan glared at Vegeta. "Screw you Vegeta. Remind me to kick your ass the first time I come back for the holidays."

Vegeta cackled and repeatedly nodded. "What a hilarious statement," Vegeta sardonically commented. "Sure, whatever brat."

"So I've gained nothing, except bonding time with my favorite veggie head. Bye Vegeta, thanks for nothing."

Vegeta sneered. "It's your fault brat for not following my idea."

Autumn took over the school as summer once again lost its grip. The hot and humid days were already declining in temperature, reduced to tepid warmth. The days winded down sooner, and the dark nights lengthened accordingly. As always, there was a different set of aesthetics of nature's grandiose pulchritude on display.

To Gohan, the occasional rustling wind was like a dirge, a constant reminder of his mistakes. He maintained a mien of contentment, but it was a more of a flaccid cheerfulness. It was pallor, lacking the color and complexity of genuine happiness. Guilt shook him, and his heart was like a living carrion, putrefied and rotten, yet still alive somehow.

His attempts to disguise his burning heart were generally successful, but his Spanish friend was never convinced. Andres, however, did not make any attempts to help his friend overcome his sullen gloominess. A storm no matter how strong dies out eventually was his rationale. Who was he to go on possibly incense the storm? Why risk it when there is a definite conclusion? Whatever he did, the same level of destruction from the violent storm would always reside in Gohan's living carrion.

What Andres did not know was that Gohan's ashen feelings were actually a plurality of anxiety. The Spanish boy did not notice the aloofness of Ginny's behavior while the Saiyan was completely aware. Strangely, Ginny had been rarely going to the suppers. Many times, her ki signature would just disappear, completely baffling Gohan. Her usual cherubic color had been scoured, replaced by an unhealthy pallor.

A few weeks ago Gohan had asked himself, was it his fault? Was she not going to dinner because of him? His suspicions were shot down when he realized that she wasn't avoiding him. A few days after their break up, she had tried her best to avoid the Saiyan, not even talking to him whenever he tried to. That attitude took a U-turn two weeks later. He now often times sat with her during class and she would not object. She would murmer a few words of conversation but nothing more. No feelings of vindictiveness were now ever present. Her eyes were unwavering, callous, and expressionless. She was overall apathetic towards him. He had looked into her once warm eyes one time, and all that was there were heartless holes of ashen darkness.

An indelible presage had been stuck in Gohan's mind ever since looking into her cold eyes. He knew there was something terribly wrong. As hard as he thought, he could not understand what was happening. His stomach nauseatingly lurched forward as he imagined her eyes again.

He stopped his sparing with his mirror image. Recalling those eyes felt like being engulfed in an overwhelming darkness. A foreign darkness, not belonging in a young girl's eyes. Gohan sullenly sighed as he thought over the situation again. He walked through the Forbidden Forest, caught up in deep thought. Videl's crew still assailed him with vehement glares whenever he got near them. Harry and Hermione were cautiously accepting of him, even after the Ron incident. That conversation with the two during lunch that day went decently well. Hermione scathingly scolded him but didn't hold hard feelings when Gohan told her exactly how he felt about doing that. 'I was a stupid, arrogant, pompous jerk and I wish that I'd have never done that because I really like Ginny.' Harry and Gohan would share occasional laughs at jokes they come up with when Ron wasn't with Harry. Ron didn't say a word to him ever since the incident.

After several minutes, he snapped out of his thoughts when he felt an unfamiliar ki. It didn't alarm him however, when he noticed it was a very low ki, even for most humans. Still, he was worried for the person who was sitting out in the forest so late at night without company. Surely, they would realize it wasn't safe.

He looked at his tattered gi skeptically, now mulling over what to do. He couldn't go out and help the person without being questioned. He would have to do something. _Glamour Charm! _

Gohan expertly produced a glamour charm to make it appear as if he was wearing his robes. Gohan had realized a few weeks ago that he was not just advanced, but he was a prodigy so advanced, that according to his teachers, no one had ever known of anyone so good at such a young age. Dumbledore curiously had inquired how he could cast a Protego shield after the incident. The Saiyan had nonchalantly shrugged and told him he learned it from the books he read. Dumbledore stared at him wide-eyed and then chuckled. The blunt way Gohan put it amused him to no ends.

Dumbledore saw the confusion in Gohan's eyes, and then told him how special he was. Gohan remained apathetic, once again surprising Dumbledore. The atmosphere then became tense. The Saiyan sensed that Dumbledore had all of a sudden become suspicious of him. All he knew was that you didn't want to a suspicious Dumbledore watching you, you really didn't.

Gohan walked surreptitiously towards the provenance of the ki. He was shocked to see that it was just a small girl. She looked like a first year, that Gohan felt was certain. She was serenely lying down on her back, her protuberant silver eyes gazing at the incandescent stars. She had long, straggly, silver blond hair and very pale skin. Gohan couldn't help but half-smile at the scene, the girl looked peaceful, a stark contrast to him.

He hesitantly walked towards her. She didn't seem to notice him, and continued to gaze at the opaque sky. Gohan spoke up. "Hi, I'm Gohan Son."

The girl trained her dreamy eyes on him. "Hello Gohan, I'm Luna Lovegood. If you would like to stay, you can sit here," she said, her voice a mien of dreaminess, while patting on the soft shadowy grass, motioning for him to accompany her. The first vibes he received from her where that of quaintness. The name lingered in his mind for a few moments, he was sure he had heard the name before. He shook off the feeling and redirected his thoughts to the present situation.

"It's nice to meet you Luna, but I would like to ask why you're here outside alone. It can get very dangerous here this very late at night."

Her eyes stayed unwaveringly dreamy, bewildering Gohan. He never had seen anyone appear so serene. "I could ask you the same thing. And also ask why your clothes are torn." Gohan attempted to cover up his surprise, but was unsuccessful. "I have a sort of a second sight that allows me to see through certain charms."

The shocked Saiyan looked at her frostily. "Don't probe any farther than that, and don't tell anyone about this." His icy face died down at the sight of the unaffected faraway expression of Luna Lovegood. _That should've been good enough to even make Vegeta feel nervous, but here she is so... detached, almost as if she didn't hear me._

"Since you don't seem to have any better reason to be out here, I guess that means you can't justify why I shouldn't be here while you are here," she said conversationally, paying no heed to his icy demands. Gohan wasn't sure if she was digressing from the topic of his burned clothes purposely or unconsciously. That still didn't ease the anxiety that he felt about the possibility that she would grow suspicious of him. He couldn't allow any more slip-ups around the odd girl.

"Yes I do! I..." Gohan trailed off. He stuttered, not sure what to say. Telling her about his inhuman martial arts prowess was not the answer.

"Oh dear, it seems like the Wrackspurts invaded your mind," Luna conversationally said.

Gohan stared at her, perplexed. "Wrackspurts?"

"They're invisible things that float through the air and go inside the victim's ears, making their brain fuzzy."

Gohan looked at the dreamy girl incredulously. "That's not possible, I've never heard of them and I've read books about magical creatures and they've never been mentioned."

Luna calmly stared at them. "It seems like you haven't read the Quibbler."

"The Quibbler?"

"It seems like you love reflecting what I've said. The Wrackspurts really must have made you more disabled than I thought!" She giggled a little at his derisive scowl.

_So she can break out of her dreaminess. It's not totally a part of her. I have a feeling there's more to her than meets the eye._

She broke him out of his thoughts with her dreamy voice. "But I'll explain to you. The Quibbler is a magazine that my dad produces. He writes about a variety of magical creatures that aren't officially recognized as existing, but my dad and I know they do. People are simply too narrow-minded to believe so and scorn us for having faith in that which has not been disproved." Her voice was serene, lacking any conspicuous edge to it. Gohan couldn't get over her fascinating calmness. She was something else.

"I guess I can't tell you that they don't exist when there's no evidence," he happily exclaimed, a warm smile on his face. Luna beamed at him, a cherubic quality breaking through her dreamy mien. "So, do you have any tips on getting rid of Wrackspurts?"

Her smile grew brighter and she nodded. "Yes, I've read that to get rid of them someone has to blow in the other person's ears and they will leave, repelled by the turbulence."

Gohan grinned amusingly at her. "Really? Well get on with the blowing Luna, I don't want my brain fuzzy anymore."

"Very well." She scooted closer towards him and lightly grasped his shoulders to better position herself. She blew into his ear, attempting rid his brain of Wrackspurts. Her warm breath tickled Gohan's ears like the tips of flowers on his skin, and he couldn't shake off the feeling that he was really enjoying himself. "There, it seems like they're all gone. Feeling better?"

It was Gohan's turn to dreamily stare at her. "Much better."

She looked at him with bemused confusion. "You really should cut that out; people might think you're a little odd." Gohan couldn't help but laugh at the irony of the comment. His brusque laugh somewhat startled Luna, her dreaminess dissipated slightly, but she then dreamily smiled at him again.

"So now that I have driven out the Wrackspurts, can you coherently state why you are better capable than me in staying safe here?"

He would have to go with his famous (already known throughout the school), prodigal, magical abilities. "I am very well capable of defending myself with my magical abilities."

A different dreamy smile encroached Luna's features. Gohan couldn't discern whether it was a mocking or friendly smile. "Ah yes, your amazing magical talent. A talent so astounding, not one child in our age group has possessed such talent throughout all the history of magic. I've heard the professors speak of you with both praise and concern. Very well, it seems you are more than capable of protecting yourself. Nevertheless, it does not matter too much here, I've been out by the lake since the beginning of the school year, and nothing bad has ever happened. Admittedly, the occasional cacophony of turbulence and strange flashes of flight are quite startling, but don't worry about me, I'll be fine." Gohan tensed up at that. So she had in some way, observed the things he created. Of course, he knew she didn't see him, but he knew that if he slipped up anymore, she could easily derive a conclusion. Thankfully, the thoughts racing through his head did not translate to his appearance.

He reluctantly agreed with her. "Fine, you can stay but I'm keeping you company tonight," he firmly said. She vaguely nodded, almost as if she wasn't actually listening to him. Out of nowhere, he recalled where he heard that name. Ginny had told him after their break-up that she was going to talk to her friend Luna. Could this be the same Luna? Excitement welled up in him at the possibility, like a breath of unsullied air for his heart that usually was teeming with a cloying obstinate guilt. If someone knew what was wrong with Ginny, surely that Luna girl could possibly be that someone. "By the way, do you happen to know a Ginny Weasley?"

She tilted her head and looked at him, as if struggling to recall the name. "Yes I do. She is a friend of mine. I met when I was a little girl. I recall that you were her boyfriend, correct?

If it hadn't been Luna Lovegood asking that question, he would be nervously balancing on the thin wire of conversational courteousness. Luna Lovegood was different however. There was no trace of vindictiveness in her tone. She spoke mellifluously, her smooth soothing voice reassuring him. There was no thin wire, no balancing act when one spoke with Luna Lovegood. She was a wide sea of fresh acceptance. "Yes I was. Unfortunately, I made one of the biggest mistakes of my life and she accordingly let me go," he almost nonchalantly said. He was surprised by his lack of desultory gloominess. Luna seemed to radiate hope of something better, something he didn't entirely comprehend. She was a flicker of light in what he thought would be an infinite darkness of gloom.

"I am glad to see that you have acknowledged your mistake, but unfortunately the damage has been done."

"I realize that, but what I would like to know – you being her friend and all, I assume that you know – why Ginny is so withdrawn and different. She's lost that cherubic quality that made her so unique. She's lost that vigorous fire in her attitude. Now she seems like a distant, ice cold, apathetic mess. She looks ill, her radiant skin is now pasty white, her eyes are cold windows of darkness, she's unrecognizable to me now! And I know that it's not me who's changed her."

The dreaminess in Luna disappeared at the seriousness of the situation and she now looked sullenly at the Saiyan. "Unfortunately, I do not know any better than you do about the situation. I have caught her spending most of her time with a diary – even when she's walking she carries it. I once asked her when she bought it, and she uncharacteristically snarled at me. She was delusional, believing that I wanted to steal the diary away from her. But what could that have to do with her drastic change?"

Gohan looked downbeat by the lack of answers from Luna. No answers but more questions he sullenly noted. Luna noticed his sadness and spoke up. "I am also trying to understand what's happening with Ginny, Gohan. If you need any help, I'll gladly be there for you and help you however I can."

The Saiyan gave her a small smile. "Thanks Luna, that means a lot to me."

She then thoughtfully stared at him, discomforting Gohan at the awkward silence and her continuous staring. _Why does she have to look at me like that? It's so uncomfortable._

Luna then smiled at him. "You are different from most people. You're more accepting and a little... dotty."

"I'm dotty now, what does that make you?"

"People call me Loony," she bluntly said. Gohan was startled at her candid comment. Soon, a fervent feeling of anger filled him.

"Why do they do that?" he icily asked, his voice grating.

She shrugged. "Because of my different beliefs, but honestly, I don't really mind."

"They still shouldn't call you names!"

"Don't worry Gohan, it's nothing to bother you."

His anger subsided and he caringly gazed at Luna. He wasn't sure what, but there was something about the girl that made him feel very protective of her. In half an hour, he had formed an inexplicable bond with the girl. "Yes it does bother me Luna. It greatly bothers me that people will go around unjustly teasing someone else because they are different. It defies everything I stand for and I will not allow it to continue. If I ever hear anyone call you Loony, I'll make sure that they cut it out permanently."

Luna's eye widened and had a shocked face; a reaction that Gohan felt was an arduous task to get out of the blonde girl. "You want to help me out, and stop the other kids from teasing me?" she airlessly questioned, unbelieving that someone actually wanted to help her out.

"It seems like you're doing the reflecting now Ms. Lovegood. Wrackspurts making your brain fuzzy?"

Luna giggled. "Maybe, how about you help me get rid of them Gohan?"

"Why not?"


	8. Emerging Complications

**Disclaimer: Me do not own HP or DBZ**

**xxxxxxx: Means same people involved later in story **

**--: Means different people**

**Thanks for the reviews.**

An incandescent wave of energy shot through the sky like a speeding bullet towards the demi-saiyan

An incandescent wave of energy shot through the sky like a speeding bullet towards the demi-saiyan. It roared its way at him, not slowing down at all. He just narrowly avoided it, by milliseconds. Gohan's mirror image took the moment of recumbence to its advantage. A wailing cry of pain resonated through the air, as Gohan was assailed from behind. The mirror image had reappeared behind him, and had struck him with a flurry of ferocious blows.

His mirror image's strong hands then locked onto Gohan's neck, and he proceeded to strangle him, keeping his grip unwaveringly strong. Gohan sucked in precious gasps of adulterated air, grimy with fetid sweat and blood. His mind raced as he attempted to come up with a spell to escape from the perilous situation. Any other day he would've muscled his way out of the grip, but tonight was a special night. A night reserved to warding his mirror image off with purely magic, speed, and strategy. And there were no Super Saiyan transformations.

'What was the point?' Vegeta had asked him once when they conversed (surprisingly civilly) with the MVB. Gohan explained that he wanted to become a famous duelist in the magical world. Just as predicted, Vegeta snorted at the demi-saiyan's aspirations.

When his education at Hogwarts was finished, Gohan did not want to withdraw from the magical world. He wanted to embrace it. He wanted to throw away his mom's dreams of a scholar in the family. He didn't want to be a scholar; he wanted to be a magical duelist. Something far more exciting than a scholar. Of course, he would attempt to limit the use of his inhumane speed and strength in such duels, in order to level the grounds as much as possible. It wouldn't be difficult to adjust to the opponent's physical level when he gained enough control over his powers.

Over the last couple of weeks, Gohan had learned from his observations that ki and magical energy were linked together. One could influence the other. He suspected that eventually, it could be possible to send magic in ki and ki in magic. There were countless possibilities if this were to be the case. What advancements and discoveries could he make in such a new field?

However, Gohan did not yet have a firm grasp on using his ki to influence his magical energy or vice versa. Although Gohan noticed that his spells were far more powerful than his peers, his spells definitely weren't as strong as the professors', at least not yet. If he were to continue advancing at the rate he was during these nights, he would surpass them in his second year. Dumbledore? Perhaps fifth year.

"_Anapneo" _Gohan whispered. His airway cleared up and he smirked when his mirror image released him. Of course, his mirror image was as smart as he was, so the mirror image knew it would be futile to try to choke Gohan.

Suddenly, Gohan apparated behind his mirror image and wordlessly sent a Confundo charm towards his mirror image, then disillusioned himself. _What are you going to do when I'm invisible and you're too confused to sense my ki? Boy, I'm good. _Gohan sent a strong banishing charm hurdling towards his confused mirror image. Finally, the banishing charm was strong enough to send his mirror image flying through the dark night.

--

"Do I really have to be with you and your friends?"

"Yes Andres, you have to."

The Spanish boy whimsically groaned. "But why Cho?"

"It would be best if the relationship extended farther than just between us. Your friends should get to know my friends. It would solidify our bond."

Andres rolled his eyes. _Bond? I'm in for the goodies not for this bond she speaks of. _"Ok, sure, whatever you say."

Cho fixed a stern gaze on the Spanish boy. "I saw that eye roll!"

Andres sent her an ingratiating smile. "Cho, I was just amusingly thinking about my friend. I couldn't imagine him trying to be friends with your friends."

The finagle worked and Cho gave him a warm smile. "Too bad for him, it's mandatory. Hey, maybe I can hook him up with one of my friends."

Andres smirked at that. He knew the Saiyan would not warm up to any of Cho's friends, especially in that way, and especially a month after his incident with Ginny.

"Go get him and bring him to the courtyard, we'll be there."

"Ok, sure, see you soon Cho."

"Bye Andres!"

As soon as Cho left, Andres let out some laughs. _This is going to very interesting._

Once Andres had found Gohan, he began to explain the situation.

Well, first he grabbed his arm forcefully trying to bring him along. "You're coming with me Gohan."

"Hey! What are you doing Spanish boy?" Gohan ripped the hand away.

"Come on Japanese boy, why do you always need to know the facts?"

Gohan sent him a galling glare. "Because who knows what the hell you're leading me into. For all I know, you could be trying to hook me with some girl like all those other times."

Andres innocently whistled. "Whatever are you speaking of?" Gohan had caught on his friend's efforts to hook him up with a girl. The first two times, Andres had actually thought it would work. After that, he just did it for fun on Annoy Gohan days.

"Even though your memory is terrible, I know that you know what I'm speaking of."

"Hey! My memory isn't shit!"

Gohan rolled up his sleeve, pretending to examine a watch. "Tick tock, whatever you want to do, there's ten minutes left before classes resume."

"Shit! Ok, I'll be straight about this. Cho wants me to bring you along with me to talk with her friends to, and, in her words, 'solidify our bond.'"

An amused expression grew on Gohan's face. "Bond? What bullshit! Bond with Andres? Pffff, you just want the goodies."

"Yah, I know but don't tell her that."

"Of course not, that would ruin our plans for fourth year." Both their eyes glazed over.

They dreamily sighed in unison. "Fourth year..." They snapped back to reality.

"So what's your decision?"

"Hell no."

Andres stared at his friend pleadingly, fixing his hands into a begging position. "Come on Gohan!" Gohan shook his head firmly, clearly unwilling to be dragged into Cho Chang's group. "Who knows, it might be fun!"

Gohan brusquely snorted. "Fun? Talking to a bunch of pontificate girls. They're Ravenclaws but everyone knows that Cho's friends are the third year queens of gossamer gossip."

Andres did an overly enervated sigh. "When will Mr. Knowitall here realize that just because gossip can be insubstantial, it doesn't mean it's not fun?"

"The day I start to fill my life with gossamer gossip."

"Which is?"

"Never," Gohan flatly answered.

"Damn you Gohan! Come on, let's just go, don't you think acquainting ourselves with people higher up on the social ladder will put us in a better position to fulfill our fourth year dreams?"

The Saiyan pensively thought for a few seconds. Gohan rubbed his chin, and unknowingly to him, Andres mockingly did the same. _Gohan's probably like, oh look at me, I'm so much sexier than you when I think. What a load of bull._

Gohan then returned his gaze to Andres, and caught his friend mocking him.

"What the hell where you doing?" He asked vexingly.

Andres' eyes widened anxiously. "Oh nothing, nothing." _You don't want an angry Gohan._

"Asshole."

"What?" Andres gave him an innocent look.

"You know what. Now I'll pretend that never happened."

"Thank you god," Andres whispered under his breath.

Gohan slightly frowned, peeved about what was necessary. "I guess we'll gradually progress through that hell ladder and it'll make things easier in the future. So, sure."

"That's the spirit! Now come on, eight minutes left."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_Oh Kami, why must I undergo this torture? _Gohan acerbically stared at the girls who where appearing ever closer. "I hate you Andres."

"It's only for five minutes man, you need to learn to understand the female language anyway."

Gohan raised an eyebrow. "The female language?"

Andres smacked his face, as if ashamed of his friend's lack of knowledge. "I guess years out in complete isolation didn't exactly help you. Well, I'll put it this way. It takes years of practice to get to decipher the female language. Sometimes, they might say one thing and mean another. Like, you ask them if they want to make out, and they're like no but they actually do want to."

Gohan looked at him dumbstruck. "Why? Is it to a trick a person and make fun of them like what we do."

"No Gohan, it isn't. Scientists don't know why either. They think it has to do with some hormones or something like that."

"Hormones, chemicals released by cells that affect cells in other body parts," the Saiyan professionally stated.

_God help Gohan. _"Yah sure, chemical majiggers. Anyway, you can get a good idea about what they truly mean with more experience. The more you practice, the more you'll understand how to make them feel better, understand their emotions, and solve even more complex meanings. It may seem like an arduous task to figure this out, but in the end it's really cool to know what they actually mean."

"So they're like calculus?"

Andres rolled his eyes. "Yes Gohan, they're like calculus." _What a nerd. _

"Hi Andres!" Cho greeted from the bench. She sat with her three other friends, all of them third year. Gohan half-heartedly observed that they looked pretty cute. Still, he hadn't recovered from his break up with Ginny and he was in no mood for a girl.

"Wait, is this Gohan Son, the guy who made Ginny Weasley cry?" Gohan's features darkened at this, guilt was clearly everpresent.

_Shit, she's going to blast me now for this. Well, I guess bros before hoes will apply here. _"Uhh, yah, but..."

"Great! I've always hated the Weasleys, there like poor hillbillies."

_Oh no, Gohan's not going to like that comment. _Andres was right. Gohan didn't like that comment one bit. His normally pale face was now flushed crimson red. That comment left a vile taste in Gohan's mouth. There was no way in hell he would communicate with such a girl.

"Excuse me but I must be going, I was supposed to be doing something else, far more important than this, but it happened to slip my mind. So bye." His tone was calm, controlled, but incisively biting. Without a further word, he left. There were no protests. The way he uttered the words had left the girls struck with a sense of apprehension.

_Damn he's good. _"There's only three minutes left so I guess it would be okay if I left too. I mean Gohan isn't here anymore, that defeats the purposes of this get together. I don't want to be the only guy in a group of girls you know."

Cho gave Andres a weak smile, still slightly shaken by the acridness. "Sure Andres, some other time."

With the farewells out of the way, the Spanish boy chased after his friend. There were problems needing to be resolved.

"Wait up Gohan!" Andres called after his friend, who was striding through the hall, a caustic bite in every step he took. At Andres's calling, he robustly paused, and mechanically turned around to face his friend.

The Saiyan's features were callous, as blank as a white paper, yet as unnerving as curtains of dense darkness. "You want to talk about the comment your girlfriend made," the Saiyan incisively stated.

A billowing wave of coldness gusted through the Spanish boy's spine. _Damn he's really good. _"Yah and I'd like to say..."

"I won't try to be friendly with her, even if you want me to." Andres slightly chuckled, warranting a confused expression on Gohan's face. "What's so funny?"

Andres gave him an amused smile. "Dude, Gohan. Let's set things straight. What she said was really shallow, and I understand why you walked out on us. I won't force you to do anything against your own will. Here's our number one golden rule Gohan. Bros over hoes, ok? Bros over hoes."

Gohan smirked at the saying. "Sure, bros over hoes. So do you have to date that girl?"

Andres gave him a knowing look. "You know me Gohan, it's not like I really care about her. She can be so damn irritating at times and really needs some maturing, maybe some quagmires now and then to sort her out."

"And you're mature?" Gohan dersively drawled.

"At least I'm more laid back, and going with the flow, you know?"

"Yah I know, going with the flow." Gohan mocked billowing waves with his arms.

Andres ignored him. "So, you know I'm using her to get us going up the social ladder okay? And we really need it too if we want to look good to the non- Slytherins. The first years already look up to me like some sort of demi-god because of me dating Cho."

Gohan sighed. "Sure, I guess if it isn't a serious relationship."

Andres laughed aloud. "Serious? Don't mess with me man, that's not funny."

Gohan couldn't help but let out a chuckle.

**In another timeline...**

"For the last time Trunks, no!" Bulma barked. She was working on a very important experiment that could possibly discover the cures for a variety diseases but here was her son, bothering her with insistent requests to repair the broken time machine for him. All just because he wanted to give romantic advice to Gohan. She couldn't restrain herself from laughing the first time Trunks told her about why he wanted the time machine fixed. She was always proud of her son's looks, but unfortunately, girls were attracted to him by his looks and ignored the overly sappy sweet talk her dear Trunks barfed up. Trunks had once recited it to her and asked her how good it was. She said it was ok, but truthfully, it made her repress bile because of the sickening superfluous sappiness. She didn't want to tell him how corny it sounded, so she gave him advice that he shouldn't have to resort to lines with a girl. He should try to be himself. But the millions of chick flicks he watched had gone to his head, and he would not listen to his mother, who had once been the most beautiful girl in West City. Bulma knew a thing or two about being a beautiful girl who played hard to get. Trunks would one day run into one, and boy would he be in haphazardly helpless situation.

"Come on mom, make another time machine for me," Trunks whined to his mother. Bulma shot him a menacing glare, causing Trunks to feel butterflies in his stomach. Big Bad Sexy Beast butterflies. _I am left with no other choice. I must selflessly sacrifice myself to help my friend. It must be done. _ "I'll stop throwing my super secret fangirl parties," he coyly added, his heart slightly lurched forward at the comment however. He didn't want his parties to end but his mom hated his secret fangirl parties. Well, it wasn't super secret anymore because she had found out about them when one of the parties was a little wilder than usual, leaving all the guests dead asleep on the floor, naked by the way. No, it wasn't super secret anymore, it was just secret.

Now that was a good deal for Bulma. She hated his quote 'super secret fangirl parties' or what she called his 'blaringly obvious party for slutty fangirls'. The conditions of the rooms were horrendously mind numbing after his parties. It was like Vegeta had blown a fuse and rampaged through the house... twice. She swung her attention from the experiment to her son again. "Okay Trunks, I'll do it. But you have to stop those fangirl parties..."

"Super secret fangirl parties," Trunks added.

Bulma glowered at him and gritted her teeth. "Those super secret fangirl parties and if you don't, I'll stop repairing the time machine and..." A thoughtful look crossed Bulma's face. "And you'll have to eat my cooking for a month."

Trunks face was filled with fear. Bulma's cooking? Oh the horror! He'd rather face an army of Cells rather than Bulma's cooking. The answer was clear to Trunks. "Ok mom. I got you. So, you think it'll be up in a week or two?"

"Oh no Trunks, I say December."

Trunks's eyes widened, clearly distraught. "What? December? I can't wait that long, Gohan needs me!"

_Honestly, I wonder why I made that ball in the first place. No good would come out of in bad hands._ "I'm sure Gohan will be fine."

"No he won't! He needs the master of magnetic charm with him to make the right moves! He needs me!"

Bulma snorted. _Master of magnetic charm my sweet ass._

--

Kami's lookout was eerily silent that day. There was only one man outside. It was Piccolo, who was calmly mediating as usual. It was silent except for the occasional breeze or tapping of footsteps.

Piccolo's mind was completely blank, only focusing on his ki. As Dende walked through the cloister, he took a peek at Piccolo. It always amazed Dende how Piccolo could keep himself stay for hours, or even days without moving, without a single thought. Dende couldn't keep still for more than ten seconds.

Occasionally, being the guardian of the Earth could get boring. Sure, you had a bunch of cool powers, but he was constantly restrained to staying in the lookout. The lookout was definitely of grandiose magnificence. There were palm trees swinging to and fro like bobble heads, an almost everlasting blanket of perpetual silence encompassing the lookout, and enumerable rooms of mysterious and powerful functions that Dende still hadn't fully understood. Yes, Kami's Lookout was an amazing place, but it could be a bore at times. That was the pitfall of constant stability, a constantly unchanging attribute promoting an inevitable ambivalence.

Piccolo, was mediating as usual, nothing different Dende mused. _Sometimes I wish something could just break his concentration. Not a person trying to talk to him or something, that's not satisfying, but maybe something small, like a bug or a breeze. _Dende remembered the day he interrupted Piccolo not once, not twice, but three times. What Piccolo did to him, was something only Nameks could fully explain. A foreign horror unknown to sweet Earth.

As Dende's gaze lingered on Piccolo, he eventually saw an unordinary twitch from Piccolo. Piccolo's lips curled tautly in further concentration. His form was not relaxed, rather, it was tense and edgy. Suddenly, Piccolo's eyes brusquely shot open, widening at an alarming sensation.

"Dende, I sense something, a power, an incredible power, I've never felt anything like I,." Piccolo croaked out with a shaky, hesitant voice.

Dende himself couldn't help but mentally berate himself once apprehension struck him unrelentingly like a fervid lightening bolt. He got what he wanted, but he didn't feel like how he though he would. The small Namek walked closer to Piccolo. "What power? It can't be stronger than Gohan!" There was no way someone could be stronger than immense power Gohan had displayed at the Cell Games. And if there was such a person, who could it be?

Piccolo shook his gaze away from Dende, flicking his eyes towards the tranquil sky. "I'm afraid it is. What's even stranger is that it's gradually getting stronger, then disappearing, gradually getting stronger then disappearing. This is constantly happening. I don't know what's happening. Do you know Dende?" He returned his gaze to Dende.

Dende shook his head. He wasn't sure what could do that. "I'm not sure Piccolo."

"Well try to sense the power. Maybe that would help." Once again, Piccolo flicked his attention towards the sky.

Dende did and in a few moments, locked onto the source of pulsating energy. It was turgid and immense yet somehow constantly disappearing and reappearing. How was that possible? Unless... someone was being revived through magical means. But how could that be? The only possible way someone could be revived was if there soul was wandering without a body. But who could be that strong and have died? His memory of the Earth couldn't recall anyone who had been that powerful, ever. Unless this soul was foreign and somehow found, it's way to Earth through means beyond Dende's knowledge. That was the only explanation to the strange energy.

"The only explanation I can think of is that the energy is coming from a soul being fully revived through magical means."

"What?" Piccolo yelled, shocked at the possibility, for the second time turning his gaze to Dende. "But that would mean the soul's original body had already been destroyed. But I don't recall anyone ever being that powerful, especially not on Earth."

"That's what I thought of too. But maybe it's not a soul from Earth, maybe it's a soul from some other planet that somehow managed to get here through means I'm not aware of. Certainly a person that powerful may be capable of finding there way here."

"That's reasonable. But why would they come here?"

Perplexed lines filled Dende's forehead "I don't know. Maybe they couldn't be revived on their planet and they had to come here. But that would raise the question how could they know about the person reviving them and who is this reviver."

Piccolo grunted. "I think it's best I look into this directly. We can't spend time here asking questions, I have to go and somehow destroy this power before it's completely revived. It's constantly growing at a dangerous pace."

"But Piccolo, didn't you say that power is already stronger than Gohan? You'll get yourself killed!" Dende anxiously said.

"It is stronger than me, but remember, you can make portkeys. If whoever that person is notices me, I could use the portkey and get out."

Dende eyed him worriedly. "But what if there are wards that don't allow you to get out through portkeys."

"Dende, the power is in a secluded Romanian forest. I doubt they're taking precautions. It's extremely unlikely anyone would stumble upon them. And if they did, whatever this power is it would kill that person."

Dende hestitantly nodded. "Okay Piccolo, but take care."

A rare smile crossed Piccolo's face. "Don't worry, everything will go fine" With that reassurance, Piccolo flew from Kami's Lookout ready to discover the source of the disturbingly immense power.

--

October drew on its natural powers once it swept September. The chill redolent to the month immediately was aroused that frigid night. Layers of impenetrable silence lay recumbent through the Forbidden Forest, only broken by the subtle whisperings of dragging footsteps.

It was too silent for Harry Potter. He couldn't repress the indelible qualms that struck his heart relentlessly like the beating of a drum. He couldn't repress the cold sweat slowly sloughing down his cold pale face like the dripping droplets from a creaky faucet. The silence was cold, unrelentingly lurching his stomach to and fro without a twinge of malaise. What more could one expect from the servant of Darkness? Silence created mercurial times of solemn despair, which was its job when in served the darkness.

As he maundered through the forest, he hoped that the silence would be broken. He retracted such thoughts soon after considering the consequences. Wishing for the brevity of silence was not very wise. Sometimes, presages where better than realities. He was feelings presages, not the realities, possibly dangerous realities.

Harry growled when he recalled what brought him to face the opaque darkness currently enshrouding him. Snape had been his typical chauvinistic self during Potions class. A few mistakes on the potion Harry was brewing, and he was sent to serve detention with Hagrid. Hermione actually told Snape off and consequently, she had to serve detention too.

Gohan Son had also gotten detention from, guess who... yup, Snivellus Snape himself. Who would've thought?

As great of a guy Hagrid always was, he never seemed to understand the true dangers of the forest. Or at least the dangers Harry felt were there. Hagrid said that there was nothing that could be harmful in the forest, at least if not provoked. Yet, Harry couldn't help but think otherwise, and every second he spent in the forest made him feel more inclined to dismiss Hagrid's claim as precarious at best.

Admittedly, it wouldn't have been so bad for Harry if he was with Hermione and Gohan. Too bad they had to search for three different things and Snape had given Hagrid specific commands to separate the three during detention.

So here he was stumbling through the eerie forest like a blind man without a stick. _Good job Potter, it was so smart leaving your wand on your trunk. _Whatever dangers there were, he felt that whenever it presented itself, he'd be a goner, a very tasty goner.

_What was I looking for again? Oh, that's right, Alihotsy leaves, said to create hysteria in the person who eats them. Why would Snape want that? Oh Potter, what a stupid question to ask. A better question is why Snape wouldn't want something like that. The answer, I dunno. _

Suddenly, his foot hit a rock, making him stumble forward into the silty dirt. _I guess my luck ran out, it was only a matter of time before I fell down with all this bloody darkness surrounding me. _His hands gripped onto silky leaves, sated with smoothness. _What's this? _An invisible grin lined his face, the opaque darkness obscuring it. _Alihotsy leaves! Alright! The irony of this is killing me. But now I can get back to Hagrid's hut. The problem is, how do I get back? Sweet Merlin this sucks! _

He stood up from his fallen position, and headed straight back the way he thought he came from. Of course, he didn't know exactly where he was going, but it was nicer to think that you actually knew where you were going rather then acknowledge you were lost. _Oh look, I think I've seen that tree before! Yup, it looks exactly like all the other trees. An indistinguishable figure in this god-forsaken darkness. I must be going the right way! _The affectation of optimism was enough to make even the most deluded optimist cringe. That was the only way to keep Harry's sanity however. Perhaps an exaggeration, but the point has been made.

Out of nowhere, a yellow flicker of flight and the sound of a minute explosion came from Harry's right side. Then, the gait of hasty footsteps ripped the layers of silence too shreds. Weren't they impenetrable? The lord of darkness simply told Silence to retreat. He wanted a more direct approach of torturing Harry.

Harry's initial reaction was to run away as quickly as possible from the direction of the yellow light. Instead, he stood firmly planted into the dirt, like a tall stalk only uprooted until it faced the plow, his plow was coming soon, and he'd be gone when he saw it. Harry wasn't exactly sure what kept him there, perhaps foolishly pasted to the ground. Was it fear? No it couldn't be fear. It was more of a gut feeling. A feeling that sent a message not of danger, but safety. _If have to fight for my life because of a near death experience, I will never listen to my gut again._

With the thick darkness, all he could see was a small human figure appear out of the brush. "Who's there?" he questioned diffidently.

"Harry it's me!"

"Hermione? Why where you running?"

Hermione closed the distance between them to an acceptable space. Up close, she looked anxious. "I saw Gohan make a ball of energy come out of his hands and shoot it out at a troll. It made the troll run away," she whispered, clearly shaken.

"What? It must've been his wand Hermione, you can't make energy balls come out of your hands, unless it was wand-less magic. But even I know that you have to be incredibly advanced to do that."

"Yes you do, and as good as Gohan is, he simply cannot be that proficient. It couldn't have been magic, it had to be something else."

Harry shook his head. "Hermione, there's no way balls of energy could have come out of his hands. Just no way. You must've not seen his wand, I mean, it is really dark out here."

Hermione nodded, still somewhat skeptical of the situation. "So did you find the plant you were looking for?" she asked, digressing from the previous subject.

"Yep, it happened to fall into my hands or more like I fell into its hands. You?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "I won't ask, but I did find mine."

"Well then, let's get going, this place gives me the creeps." Hermione couldn't help but giggle. "What?"

"I've never heard you admit that you're afraid of something."

Harry huffed. "I'm not afraid, simply... slightly worried about the possible threats."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh, sure Harry."

--

Harry was having an onerous time attempting to keep up with Hermione. Her bushy hair was haphazardly flying all over the place, as she quickly trudged through the halls scant of students.

Whenever she got an idea in her amazingly coruscate brain of hers, nothing could stop her from confirming it. That was what brought upon this scene, a yearning to confirm her theory.

Unfortunately, for Harry, just as usual, he was left out in the dust. His thought process did not work like hers. She connected dots that he didn't even know either existed or could be connected. At least he knew he wasn't stupid, she was simply too smart.

They had been out walking through the hallways, during lunch after their usual dreary experience with Snape. Ron had to go serve a lunch detention with Lockhart right after class when he accidentally blew up a cauldron of the Smoking Drugbringer potion they had been making. Of course, Snape took it upon his benevolent self to give Ron a detention.

That left Harry and Hermione alone in a conversation about their friend Gohan. As always, they attempted to reaffirm their belief that Gohan could be trusted, always attempting to reason with their innate paranoia of Slytherins.

Soon, they were discussing Hermione's mysterious encounter with Gohan the previous night during their detention. Videl Satan happened to be brought up then subsequently, the conversation shifted to Hercule. Harry paid a compliment to Hercule for beating Cell in the Cell games, and suddenly Hermione snapped, and then trudged hastily towards the library.

"Come on Hermione slow down!" he heeded her. The words bounced off her like a bullet off a stalwart ship's hull, she was seemingly oblivious of the Harry, who was ailing with fatigue caused by trying to keep up with her.

A few seconds later, much to Harry's relief, Hermione came to a halt once she reached the library. She then proceeded in more calmly, still unaware of Harry who was just approaching the library.

Moments later, Harry entered the library, and then searched for his bushy haired friend. He paced a few bookcases to his right, looking down each one for her. At the eighth bookcase, he found Hermione in the 'History of Muggles' section. She held a new brown-leathered book in her left hand, while she rapidly flipped through the pages with her right.

Harry approached his friend almost timorously, because Hermione never liked being distracted from her studies. "Hermione," he quietly said, and waited until she acknowledged him. Once she had raised her head to eye Harry, he continued. "Why are we here?"

Hermione tried to suppress a scowl at the dimness of her friend, but instead she concocted two contrasting crescents of mood on her lips. "Really Harry," she replied testily. "You couldn't figure that out along the way?"

Harry chuckled nervously. "At first I thought you forgot all about me." The half-scowl left, and a complete frown was painted on her exasperated face. "Ok, I couldn't figure it out, but that's just because you're so darn smart. Most people can't think like you do Hermione."

Hermione sighed regretfully, filled with compunctious chide towards herself. "It's not your fault Harry. I just find it awfully irksome whenever I have to explain things that I find obvious. I tend to forget that not everyone thinks like me."

"It's fine 'Mione." Hermione fixed a stern glare on him. Harry knew he wasn't supposed to call her that, for some strange reason she hadn't told him. "Sorry Hermione, but can you explain what you thought of to me."

The glare passed, a partly serious expression replaced it. "Let's sit down at a table first." They found a creaky old wooden table then sat in it. "When you talked about the Cell Games, I remembered these other fighters who could also make energy balls come out of their hands, and they looked exactly like the one Gohan made."

Harry scrunched his forehead. "But Hercule said it was a trick, you'd have to acknowledge that it wasn't one because you saw that Gohan's light thing had an effect on the troll. Not only that, but how could Gohan do what those fighters did in the first place?"

A glum frown crept up on Hermione's face, discomfiting Harry. "Yes I would have to acknowledge that it isn't a trick. But it can't be too hard, can it? After all, muggles don't know that magic exists. Why can't most humans in general not realize that it's possible to shoot energy balls out of your hands?"

Harry sighed as portent anxiety tugged at him at the possibility of a mysterious secret being kept by Gohan. "You have a point, but it doesn't mean Gohan can do it."

"No it doesn't. But this picture may show you why I think it's possible." She pushed the book towards Harry and then pointed at a picture of a muscular boy unwaveringly standing against the monster that was Cell.

Harry's eyes widened, a flicker of apprehension shined in his emerald eyes. "That looks like Gohan," he croaked out.

"So you see that I think Gohan and that boy are one in the same."

Harry shook his head, attempting to clear the headache now endowed to him by the prospect of such a truth. "No it can't be. They look alike but that kid has blonde hair and green eyes."

"That's the only problem I can think of. A solution would be that he dyed his hair black."

"What about the eyes?" Harry was grasping at straws.

"Perhaps he used contacts?"

"By why would he try to hide who he is?"

Hermione bit her taut lip, looking ready to explode in pity for Gohan. "Don't you see Harry? We know how Gohan is; he is very humble and does not like to be in the spotlight. He wouldn't want to be recognized as the boy who fearlessly stood up against Cell by everyone in Hogwarts. It's just like you Harry."

Suddenly, Harry felt a whole well of respect for Gohan appear inside him. It was just like him. "I guess it makes sense Hermione. Still, it might not have been Gohan. The boy could've been some other kid, I mean, I'm sure there are plenty of people that look like me, except with different hair and eye color. We can't say for sure if he's that kid."

Hermione sighed, defeated with no possible rebuttal. "You're right Harry, but if we find out that it's true, we can't tell anyone."

"Agreed."

"Hey, hey, hey, how's my friend Gohan?" Andres asked, his voice cheerful as he anticipated the beginning of the Halloween feast.

"Cut it out Andres, you sound like Fat Albert," Gohan said, while instinctively swatting at a bat, one of many bats who had been made as a decoration.

"No I do not!" he huffed indignantly. Such a comparison to him was blasphemy. "Mr. Suave Pires like Fat Albert. Malarkey!"

A giggle came from the side of Gohan, making Andres raise an eyebrow at his friend. "Oh, she's one of my friends." Gohan slightly backed off from his hunched position on the chair, straightening himself to allow Andres to see his friend. Andres saw a small girl with ash blonde hair and protuberant grey eyes. "This is Luna Lovegood."

"Ahh a pleasure to meet you Ms. Lovegood," Andres romantically said. He grabbed her small hand and courteously kissed it, making Luna giggle. "Truly a pleasure," he continued, while grabbing a seat next to Gohan and sitting in it.

Gohan gave him a glare. "Why do you always have to do that whenever you meet a girl?"

Luna playfully smacked Gohan's shoulder. "He's trying to be a gentleman, and I found it very gentleman-like too."

A righteous smirk crossed Andres's face. "Exactly Gohan, some of us here actually know how to be polite."

Gohan kept firmly glaring at him. "Whatever."

Andres ignored the coldness as always. "So Gohan, why didn't you tell me about this lovely lady before?"

Gohan apathetically lowered his head, looking down at the old wooden table. "We've been busy torturing Price James and his minions, plus you've been enamored by the Queen of Gossamer Gossip, Cho Chang."

Andres forced a chuckle to come through his all of the sudden dry mouth. "Oh yah, I forgot about that." Not becoming more enamored with Cho Chang wasn't easy. Their golden rule of bros over hoes was, according to Gohan, being broken by Andres, despite his previous promises not too. It led to some heated altercations between them; Andres often times called Gohan childishly bitter over a single comment about his ex-girlfriend. He also had once remarked that Gohan stoutly defended Ginny despite the truth of Cho's comments, something that Andres was regretful of saying.

An awkward silence arose afterwards. Andres broke it, once it began to take root in the conversation. "So, why aren't you sitting with the Ravenclaws, Luna?"

"It's because none of them like me and I want to be in the company of my friend," she said dreamily, as if not bothered at all. The candidness of the comment startled Andres. He had never heard such a blunt comment.

Gohan half-amusingly noticed Andres's confusion. "But why?" Andres finally asked.

She gave him a puzzled look. "Well because friends are nice to be around." Andres shook his head, slightly annoyed. Gohan simply amusingly smiled. "Is something wrong with you? Did a Blibbering Humdinger catch your eye?"

Andres looked incredulously at her. "A Tittering Shitdunger?" Gohan broke out in hysteria at Andres.

Luna remained calm, looking to correct Andres. "No, a Blibbering Humdinger. I guess you don't know what they are, so you probably didn't see one."

Andres's eyes remained widened, studying her cautiously with some alarm at her unusualness. "Yah, I didn't see one." Gohan managed to control himself.

"So what's wrong with you?"

"I just wanted to clarify my question."

She tilted her head to one side, staring at him perplexed. "Then why did you shake your head so many times, like you were trying to see something?"

Andres groaned inwardly. "Umm, it's inside joke between me and Gohan," he lied, trying to move the conversation into another direction.

"An inside joke? You mean the joke is inside you, like you telepathically connect to each other and say the joke?" She gazed at him, a hint of wonder set in her tone, amazed at the possibility.

Gohan was now busy laughing into his hands, cupped over his mouth. Andres gave him an indignant glance. "No, an inside joke is –"

"But that's very strange." Luna cut him off. "Both of the persons have to be very advanced in magic to do that. I've only heard of lovers telepathically connecting when they aren't adept in those arts. Are you two lovers by any chance?"

Gohan and Andres gave her an incredulous look, completely disgusted by the idea. "NO!" they yelled out, hoping no one had heard Luna. If someone did, rumors would be swirling in the next hour about their sexual orientation.

"Oh, ok. Then how do you communicate?"

Gohan joined in. "An inside joke is just a joke between two people, or in social groups, that is humorous because of an established background to it, known by the people or insiders."

Luna looked at him in comprehension. "Now I understand. So what was your question?" she directed at Andres.

Andres appeared enervated. "It's fine Luna, I'll ask Gohan."

"Ok then." Luna gave Andres a dreamy smile, once again confusing Andres. The Spanish boy sent Gohan a perplexed glance.

_This is going to be an interesting night._

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A frightening silence enshrouded the mass of students, gathering at the scene. Filch's cat, Mrs. Norris, was limply hanging from a torch bracket. Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood in the middle of the corridor, in front of the macabre sight.

Gohan looked at the scene in shock, not sure what to think, while his Spanish friend beside him also felt the confusion trickle through his mind. _What is this? _Gohan asked himself. _Did they do that? No, they couldn't have. _Then, he noticed large blood red words streaked across the surface of the stone walls, directly beneath the hanging cat.

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR BEWARE.

_They did not do that. _

Abruptly, someone broke the shocked stillness. "Enemies of the Heir beware! You'll be next mudbloods!" Draco Malfoy yelled, gleefully.

Gohan clenched his fist, knowing the vile insult Malfoy had uttered. The Saiyan, however, was more fraught with confusion at what the Chamber of Secrets was.

Malfoy pushed his way through the crowd, his grey eyes gleaming with sick glee of vengeance, as he approached the limp cat. Was it a bluff? No, Gohan knew, that the words weren't a bluff. A sickening presage thumped at his heart like a revolting dirge of indelible malice. His instincts never lied. Without a doubt, more horrors would be committed. The question now was, what could he do?


	9. Shadows Embraced by Five

"What's going on here

**Disclaimer: I don't own HP or DBZ  
Thanks for the reviews.**

"What's going on here? What's going on?" a creaky voice said and resonated through the hallway. Filch was pushing his way through the mass of students. At the mercurial sight of Mrs. Norris, he clutched his face is distraught discomfit. "My cat! My cat! What's happened to Mrs. Norris?" he screeched, eyes wrangling about, eyeing every student with an insane inimicality.

His bursting eyes heavily fell on Harry. "It was you!" he accused, raising a shaking finger at Harry. "You've murdered my cat! You've killed her! I'll kill you! I'll – "

"Argus!" Dumbledore's firm voice called from behind the crowd. The students made way for Dumbledore and the other teachers trailing behind him. Swiftly, he swept pass the trio and took the limp cat off the torch bracket.

"Come with me Argus. You too Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, and Ms. Granger," he calmly said.

Professor Lockhart keenly stepped in, his typical toothy smile plastered on his face. "You can use my office Headmaster. It's nearest, just up the stairs."

"Thank you Gilderoy," Dumbledore said.

The crowd parted to let them pass. With a whirl of his robes, the old, yet powerful man led the trio and Filch towards Lockhart's room. Immediately at their departure, hushed whispers buzzed through the room like the strident hissings of beetles. Gohan instead maintained his countenance, only a small twinge of worry rubbed his stomach. He was sure Dumbledore would be reasonable.

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A prefect escorted the Slytherins towards the common room. Discussion had erupted immediately after leaving the area of the attack. It was not one of concern – in contrast to the other houses – but dark joyousness. Venomous laughs at the eventual misfortune soon to bestow muggle-borns lurched Gohan's stomach. An appalled flicker of disgust crawled up his throat, sickly brackish in taste, and as conspicuous as a giant stomping through a forest. Gohan was like a lodestone to the Slytherin cesspool of ragtag malevolence. He was so strikingly different from the people in the house, yet the house pulled him in. Despite the distasteful discussion, Gohan himself remained calm, not speaking up.

Andres alongside him, in contrast, had more than once butted in, his temper flaring at various discussions. He flayed many Slytherins for their revolting behavior. He even asked the prefect to put a stop to the distasteful comments being made. However, the prefect simply sneered at him, obviously sharing the similar repugnant sentiments as the other Slytherins. Andres was about to curse him with his wand until Gohan restrained Andres. Reluctantly, the fiery boy lowered his wand, pocketing it back into his robes. Andres sent Gohan an envenomed glare, but the Saiyan told him to remain calm. Tomorrow he would explain why. Andres curtly nodded, still exasperated by the lack of sedition from his friend.

As they descended down to the dreary dungeon, and as the umbrage covered all the Slytherins like a dark cloak, Prince James huffily approached Gohan with his usual pontificate gait. Gohan acknowledged him with a bored look. "What do you want James?" Gohan asked dryly. A wry smirk sank in the French Prince's face. _He looks even more like my ass when he smiles like that. Wait. Forgive me ass, I didn't mean to insult you._

"Not exactly the proper way to address royalty, ay?"

Gohan's face fixed into a capricious dark scowl. "Cut to the damn chase asshole, we're almost at the common room and once we're there, I'm heading straight for my dormitory."

A few curious heads flicked their attention towards the altercation. "Brusqueness. A peasant's manner to life. Ah, very well. I wanted to ask you what you were doing with _Looney _Lovegood at our table," he brazenly asked.

"Shut up dipshit! Don't call Luna 'Looney!'" Andres hotly directed towards Prince James.

"Ah, ah, ah this conversation is between me and Gohan, Spanish boy." Andres glared punitively at the Prince, then switched his gaze towards the flagrantly incensed Gohan.

"Gohan, you can't let him talk about Luna like that." If Gohan had heard his words, Andres couldn't tell. All he knew was that Gohan was really pissed off. And boy, you didn't want a pissed off Gohan, that's for sure.

"**Don't ever call Luna that name again. Ever." **Gohan's words were like serrated febrile ice, the heat sending the flight-or-fight reactions into over drive, the notched edges pricking at the skin like thorns, while the frost drove dark coldness scurrying through the body, scouring the body of warmth. An empty pit of latticed oblivion was the frightening result. At those dark words, the smirk was eaten up hungrily by a terrified expression, an ill miasma revolved around the previously pompous prince, and his pontificate stance was now wizen and doddering on the brink of senility.

_How does Gohan do that?  
_

The Prince diffidently spoke up, a meek stutter in his words. "I can do what I – "

"No you fucking can't Prince Piss. Let me make this clear enough so that pea-sized brain of yours can understand what I mean. Don't call Luna that name again. Hell, I don't even want you fifty meters from her. Don't mess with Luna, or your going to have to answer to me," Gohan just as viciously commanded, then studied the other faces. There were many pale faces fraught with wariness. Most, however, held a pompous sneer. He noticed out of the corner of his eye Videl, Sharpener, and Erasa looking on, with a discombobulated expression.

"All of you hear me? None of you mess with Luna."

A derisive cackle came from behind the Saiyan. The Slytherins walking through the labyrinth of corridors all abruptly stopped. Draco Malfoy strode through the crowd, with his generic sneer on his pale face. "Son, what audacity to believe anyone will listen to you just because of your big bad scary voice." Nervous chuckles were timorously choked out by the first years, but the upper years cackled menacingly. "Maybe these itty bitty first years but not us, the older Slytherins. Why should we fear a mudblood like you?" Another cacophony of caustic cackles cut through the stalwart layers of stones like a rapier through foliage.

Apathetically Gohan regarded him, toying with ideas that could display his strength, strong enough to scare the Slytherins silent, but controlled properly to prevent trouble. Only a paucity of ideas trickled through his head surprisingly. After mulling over the possibilities for a split second, his decision was made.

"_Serpensortia," _he hissed. Subsequently, he wordlessly summoned three dancing blue orbs of flaring, incandescent flame, the trio purposefully crawling closer to Malfoy's pale face, now moist with sweat. Susurrations of heat waves rocked his face, the sweat decanted by the orbs of crackling flame. Malfoy's face transmogrified.

A large serpent appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, its scaly skin like clammy bark to the touch, its eyes like daggers gouging at the heart. It was not a serpent that anyone – at least a second year – could make. No, it was a large serpent about ten arms length long, mellifluously sloughing on the floor towards Gohan, like a gentle breeze glazing over the cracks of the dungeon floor. Gohan hissed at the serpent. "Show him what it means to know fear."

The serpent appeared to bow its head. It then slithered towards the shocked Malfoy. All the Slytherin eyes were wide with disbelief, including Andres as he studied his friend with frightened apprehension. "Wait!" Malfoy cried out. He brought up an accusing finger at Gohan. "You're a parselmouth!"

The orbs of fire disseminated. Gohan lifted an eyebrow, clearly confused at the comment. As much as he studied, he didn't know everything about the wizarding world yet. "What's a parselmouth?" He expected another uproar of laughs, but none came. The only sound was the slithering of the serpent returning to its conjurer, seemingly comprehensive of the current situation.

"A person who can speak to snakes, Gohan," Andres said.

Another Slytherin, who appeared to be about a fifth year, quipped in, his voice flat with disbelief. "Speaking parseltongue is a rare ability throughout the wizarding world. Salazar Slytherin was a parselmouth, hence the serpent on our crest. It is said that the heir of Slytherin is a parselmouth..."

Gohan's eyes flickered with comprehension. He firmly fixed his gaze on the band of Slytherins. "I know what you guys are thinking so let me let me say this. I'm not the heir of Slytherin."

The prefect spoke up. "We can't be sure. Whichever is the truth, we all now know it is best to stay out of your way for the time being, unless you bid us to help you accomplish your mission or if the truth comes out that you're not the heir. Admittedly, it's strange that a mudblood would be the heir of Slytherin, but it's almost just as strange that a mudblood is a parselmouth."

Gohan grimaced at the prefect's words. The rumors would run rampant the next day. Most of the dunderheads would believe them. He would become even more isolated from the rest of the school. Gohan didn't care much, but presumptuous fright towards him was useless unless he happened to feel sadistic for a day. _Whatever, screw all of them. _"Believe what you choose to believe. But I will reaffirm again, I am not the heir of Slytherin."

The prefect studied Gohan for a moment. Once his gaze dropped, he motioned the crowd of Slytherins to continue towards the common room.

Andres walked closer to Gohan. "You were telling the truth right? You aren't the heir of Slytherin?" he said, a trace of taut nerves in his voice, something Gohan was unaccustomed to hearing in the Spanish boy.

Gohan took a sharp breath. "Don't you believe me?"

Andres grinned a little. "Yah, I was just making sure you weren't pulling a huge one on all those Slytherins. I mean, why would you want the word to come out to the teachers that you're the heir of Slytherin? That would ruin all those incredible ploys you could craft."

Gohan chuckled. "All you think about is pranks. If I was the heir of Slytherin, I think I would be a little too grouchy to worry about pranks."

"Well if I was the heir of Slytherin I would tell my badass snakes to make the Prince's royal dick piss his pants."

A chuckle became a laugh.

--

The following days consisted of raging rumors flying throughout the school, from table to table, house to house, everyone crossing borders, to receive the alarming news. What more proof was needed to confirm that Gohan was the one who conducted the attack on Mrs. Norris? After all, he spoke parseltongue secretly to the Slytherins and made a huge serpent pop out of nowhere, and according to the rumors, it was about fifty arm spans in length. How could it all be a coincidence? But what about the golden trio? Nah, it couldn't have been them, it was just a case of the saying "wrong place wrong time".

As Gohan had predicted, many students chose to believe the rumors. Now many believers avoided him like the plague. Andres and Luna were the only ones in the entire school who treated him normally. Harry and Hermione both were increasingly wary of him.

"Andres, I was going to tell you that we have to be on semi-affable terms with the Slytherins," Gohan said, then tossed an entire apple into his mouth.

Andres turned around from his plate of bacon and pancakes. "That's why you restrained me? You were thinking long term not short term," Andres said, slightly amused.

"Yah."

"There's no need to worry, at least for now. They're with us, but I'll keep my trap shut as much as I can."

"We don't need our entire house against us do we?"

Andres was ravenously eating his food. Gohan sighed then joined him.

--

"Hermione, I know Gohan can speak parseltongue, I've heard the rumors. But it doesn't mean he's the heir of Slytherin," Harry said. Disbelief was still set in his mind, despite the new knowledge of parseltongues Hermione provided him. Throughout the lecture, he felt a need in telling Hermione that he too was a parslemouth, but he was held back by fear, a fear of being ostracized. They had been avoiding discussing the rumors, but finally they succumbed to the gnawing necessity.

Ron grunted angrily, while masticating bacon. "You're talking about that git again?" he asked almost incomprehensibly, his food-filled mouth destroying any possible considerateness from him immediately.

Hermione glared at him contemptuously. "First of all, don't speak with your mouth full Ronald!"

Ron glared back at her. "Hey don't call me that!"

She ignored him. "And secondly, when will you get it through your unforgiving thick-hided soul that Gohan is sincerely sorry."

Harry helplessly stared at his friends, who once again were bickering over Gohan. "Why do you always defend Son? Has wittle Hermione taking a fancy to the Slytherin git?"

Hermione's eyes burned with an increasing heat. "Oh! You're unbearable!" She turned her body toward Harry. "We'll discuss this later, when **he **isn't here. As for now, I'm going to have to leave. I have some reading to do."

Ron snorted when she left. "See, she didn't even bother to deny it." Harry looked at his friend disappointedly. "What?"

"Ron, why don't you just forgive Gohan and get over it? He's really a great person when you get to know him."

Ron sent him a feral growl. "You too? Bloody hell what's gotten into you two? You guys are blind to all the damn evidence that shows Gohan is git! First, he's put in the evilest house in the entire world, then he screws with my sister's heart in concision he tries to extract revenge on the savior of the world's daughter. And to top it all off, he's the heir of Slytherin! What more do you need?"

Harry harshly sighed then rubbed the knots of nerves thumping in his temples. "He made a mistake Ron. We all make mistakes and I know that he's sincerely sorry. And do you honestly believe those heir of Slytherin rumors?"

Ron's face scrunched up in further disgust, his eyebrows now cant like a precipitous mountain slope. "Of course," he spat out. "What more evidence do you need?"

Harry sank his hands into the table, stood up, and then hunched over to glare at Ron. "It was a coincidence, ok? Just a coincidence!"

"But he's a parselmouth!"

Harry sat back down, timorously contemplating what to say, a weak leash restraining him from speaking the words that could become a bane. "So what... I can talk to snakes too."

Ron's eyes expanded. Harry's words smacked him like a cudgel. "No, you can't talk too snakes... You're the boy-who-lived, the Prince of Light. All parselmouths are dark wizards."

Harry snorted, fed up with Ron's small-mindedness. "Hermione was right all along, you are a small-minded, hypocritical, bigot! You call out the purebloods that stereotype muggleborns, but you yourself are just as bigoted as they are!" Harry showed Ron his back. "I'm leaving Ron. It's best we don't speak to each other until you realize what's wrong with you."

Ron snarled as Harry began to leave. "Fine! But it's not me who has the problem, it's you two!" he yelled at the rescinding figure, heads turning towards him at the sound of his discordant voice. A sense of sundered loyalty shook in him as waves of rage trembling throughout his body. Never less, dearth gusts of frost buffeted the acidic waves, overcame it, and then filled him with cold ambivalence. The result was ungainly uncertainty, and now a need to understand whether he, himself, was the problematic one.

--

Gohan and Andres were walking through the hallways towards their next class, Charms. "You're like a prodigy, right?" Andres asked.

Gohan looked at him, perplexed. "Yah, why do you ask you already know that?"

Andres grinned at him. "Well, I want you teach me as much you can. I mean, I really am aspiring to become the greatest Curse Breaker in the world, and so far Hogwarts has been easy peasy. I really want to advance, and you're the perfect teacher."

Gohan studied his friend, diffident about the decision to make. Then, he realized that it would be selfish not to teach his best friend as much as possible. Plus, they would be strongest duo in school, revered by all who they came across. That could be fun.

Gohan returned the grin. "Sure Andres, I can see where you're coming from. Not only that, but imagine both us being the strongest students in school. The power we'd command."

Andres's eyes sparkled with giddiness, glowing like stars still radiating light brilliantly in the daylight. "Oh, imagine how many times we could make Prince James wet his pants."

A thoughtful facade streaked Gohan's face. "Hmm, I say at least one hundred times a year – a low estimate however."

"High estimates?"

"Three hundred."

An evil look crossed Andres's face. "Marvelous."

Gohan cautiously glanced at his friend, slightly perturbed by the Andres's dark expression. "Yah... marvelous."

Andres broke out of his trance. "So how do you learn all those spells? I know you bought a lot of books but they surely weren't advanced enough to make you so incredibly powerful."

"What do you think I do?"

Andres wore a sly appearance. "I say you sneak into the library's restricted section a lot and power read your way through the books you get. I've seen how fast you read, and I know sneaky you can be."

"Makes sense to me," Gohan said, a wily smile encroaching his face.

"That's what I always thought!" Andres said triumphantly. "How about you include me in your escapades?"

Once again, Gohan studied the situation with timorous hesitance. He always used his incredible Saiyan speed to sneak into the restricted section. He couldn't do that around Andres. Of course, the disillusion charm would suffice. "That's fine, after all, we are partners in crime," Gohan craftily said, feigning a thief by conjuring a mask on his face.

"So we need super cool secret names!" Andres excitedly exclaimed.

Gohan groaned, disgusted. "No we don't."

"I'll be the Dark Avenger!"

"We don't need secret names," Gohan reaffirmed.

Andres continued, seemingly oblivious of Gohan. "And you can be Hot Cheeks."

"Hot Cheeks!?" Gohan asked, incredulous. "Why do I have to be Hot Cheeks?"

Andres smirked at Gohan. "Haven't you heard all the girls walking by us say that you've got a sweet ass?" He laughed aloud.

Gohan grumbled, disgruntled. "My secret name is not going to be Hot Cheeks."

"You're stuck with it... Hot Cheeks."

"Asshole."

--

Charms with the Ravenclaws had just ended. Gohan and Andres spent most of the time making funny faces at the professor when he wasn't looking, much to the amusement of the entire class. Luna had gone through a fervid state of uncontrollable giggles, making Professor Flitwick think that she had come down with a case of Giggling Blumonia, sending the class into another uproar. Now Gohan and Andres were pacing towards Herbology.

"So how's my good ol' chap Gohan?" a familiar voice asked.

Gohan slightly turned his head, and saw Fred and George walking with him. "Not too bad, even considering the stupid rumors circulating around the school."

Out of the corner of his eye, Gohan saw Andres slyly smile. He was up to something again... "Of course, the juiciest news of the week." A twin said.

"We of course don't believe it."

"Why would our little old Gohan be the heir of Slytherin?"

Gohan gave the twins a glare. "Hey! I could be the heir of Slytherin if I wanted to!"

The twins looked at each other, both amused. "Do you think he's got what it takes to be the heir of Slytherin George?"

"Good question Fred."

"So what's your answer Fred?"

"Nah, not a change George."

Gohan raised an eyebrow at the twins. "Wait, what? You guys mixed each other's names." He knew he should've memorized their ki signatures the first time he met them.

At the Saiyan's confusion, the twins both grinned. "Oh we did?"

"Why how careless of us, wouldn't you say so Fred?"

"Sure George, very careless indeed."

"Hey George, do you remember what class we have next?"

"No Fred, I can't recall."

Gohan scowled. "You're doing it again." _I'll get their identities sorted out eventually._

"Sorry," they voiced in unison, clearly not at all regretful. "So who's your friend?" a twin asked.

"Andres Pires, a Slytherin like me, but not like the rest of the arrogant slimeballs in our house."

Andres gave them a pompous smirk. "The son of the greatest Curse Breakers in the world, _the _ one, _the_ only, _the _legendary Pires family."

Gohan whispered into the twins' ears. "Scratch the arrogant part." The twins sniggered.

Andres shot them a glare. The glare was marked with substantial brevity, however, as an eerie smile encroached his features. "I've heard that you two are the biggest pranksters in the school," he coyly said.

The comment clearly quipped the twins' interest, as they stared expectantly at the Spanish boy. Gohan mentally groaned, knowing where the topic was headed. "Yes we are."

"And I would like to know if you have heard of me and Gohan's cunning exploits in the world of pranks."

The twins broadly grinned, now aware where the conversation was going. "Oh we have, quite capable you two chaps."

Andres pompously puffed out his chest. "More than capable. In fact, I would say we are the greatest pranksters in school."

"No we're not," Gohan said.

"Don't listen to him, he's too modest." Gohan glowered at Andres.

"We would have to agree with Gohan, wouldn't you say so George?"

George pocked his lips, mockingly feigning a thinking position. "Duh."

Andres rubbed his chin, mocking George's mock. "So it seems, we can't resolve this issue. Two against two it is. Thus, we must find a way to know who truly is the best. A prank competition would surely resolve it. Wouldn't you say so Gohan?"

Gohan obstreperously shrugged. "Sure, whatever you say," he gruffly said, while innately groaning once again.

The twins were beaming now, their eyes shining like sparkling stars. "Brilliant idea Andres, so what are the rules?" asked Fred.

"Well, first of all I have to tell you that I plan on making this competition official on September 8th of next year because of some... difficulties me and Gohan are encountering at the present moment."

Gohan sighed at that. He didn't expect to be in any mood to go through with a prank competition this year.

The twins pouted mournfully. "Too bad..."

"Yah, you got our hopes up and now we have to wait almost an entire year to start the competition."

"Patience is virtue lads, patience is virtue," Andres sagaciously added.

The twins grinned at them. "We'll be looking forward to it, but we've got to go right now."

"Yah, or McGonagall will start to breathe fire, so see you guys later and it's been nice meeting you Andres."

"The pleasure is all ours." With the goodbyes out of the way, the twins left.

Gohan flicked a hard gaze at Andres. "Why did you do that?"

"Do what?"

"You know what!"

"Dude, you'll be thanking me next year for my brilliant idea. You'll be having a great time in our competition."

Gohan slightly smiled, his anger dissipating like a wave of water slowly quenching fire. Andres was a good friend.

--

"Oh this is maddening," Hermione whispered, her voice haggard like a wraith.

"Hermione it's lunch, don't you think it'd be better if we were outside instead of stuck in the library?" Harry asked. Hermione sent a biting glare at Harry, making his insides froth and spew annulate rings of acerbic apprehension. "It's fine then," Harry said meekly.

She sent him a fake smile. "Good, now the reason why we're here is because I'm looking for a book on the legend of the Chamber of Secrets."

Harry gave her a wary look. "You mean what the writing on the wall said was open?"

"Yes! But all the books that delve into the legend have been taken."

"Have you looked into the restricted section?" Hermione stared at him in trepidation, mulling over whether or not to break the rules again, like the previous year.

She took a deep breath. "No, I haven't." Her eyes glanced down at her toes, wriggling like sea serpents in water. Harry waited for the answer that he knew was still to come. "Tonight?"

"Tonight."

--

"Gohan, you know we're going to the library tonight and stuff..." Andres trailed off, while flicking an apple in the air, narrowly missing a branch protruding from the large oak tree.

"Yah, and?" Gohan asked, taking several bites out of his myriad of fruits.

"Didn't you tell me the night the writings on the wall appeared that we were going to figure out what happened?"

Gohan paled, then slapped his forehead. "Of course! Who could I forget? Yes Andres, I know where you're going. And yah we'll have to look for a book in the restricted section about the Chamber of Secrets."

The Spanish boy took a crackling bite out of his apple, proceeded to chew for a few seconds, and then gulped all the flesh and juice down rhythmically. "Do you really think all this isn't a bluff? I might not be muggle-born, but I'm also not like those snobby pure-bloods who all think muggle-borns are filth who should be exterminated."

"Yes, my instincts were screaming a warning at me."

Andres took a sharp breath. "You're a muggle-born too, so I'm kind of worried about you, Malfoy's going on babbling that muggle-borns are the enemy of the heir."

Gohan gave him a mockingly loving look. "Oh Andres, how sweet. It warms my heart like toast in a toaster that you truly care about me."

Andres scrunched up his features, the sappiness sending his disgust signals on overdrive. "Cut it out Gohan, I can't take it, it's killing me!" He rubbed his temples in pain.

Gohan chuckled. "Sorry, I didn't know you were allergic to love."

"You don't know the half of it." Gohan chuckled again, he couldn't imagine what kind of girl Andres would fall in love with. "But seriously, if this 'Chamber of Secrets' has been opened, whatever attacked Mrs. Norris is going to attack muggle-borns."

"You know that I can protect myself Andres. I'd fucking fry that thing before it could touch me."

"Wow, Gohan said a really bad curse word."

Gohan shrugged impassively. "Guess you're rubbing off on me."

"Well, I'll take your word for it, I always do (unless it's a blaringly obviously lie or plain stupid)." Gohan glared at him. "But all the other muggle-borns, they're in deep shit. We have to find out what this Chamber of Secrets is tonight."

"It's nice to know I'm not giving out the orders for a change."

Andres huffed. "I am very well capable of taking command when I want. I just have better things to do then being the leader all the time."

Gohan rolled his eyes. "Oh sure." A thought then struck the Saiyan. "What about Luna? Do you want to get her involved in our plans?"

A teasing smile lined Andres's face. "Has Gohan taken up a new love interest?"

"She's not a love interest! She just a friend!"

Andres snickered. "Sure Gohan, whatever you say. I take your word for it (unless it's a blaringly obvious lie or just plain stupid)." The Spanish boy felt the familiar heat waves almost eat at his skin. "But no, we shouldn't. Yah she's a friend, but we shouldn't put her in risky situations."

Gohan looked somewhat ashamed. "Of course, I don't want anything bad to happen to her. Why'd I even think of that?"

"Because you wanted be close to her beautiful self."

"Shut up, asshole."

--

Videl Satan was mindlessly poking her food, while Erasa and Sharpener were bickering as usual for a foolish reason, their gibbering so unclear, they sounded like squeaking mice. She didn't feel hungry; she felt more like thinking than eating. As the turmoil following the Mrs. Norris incident steadily died down, her mind began to think more clearly.

She never was one to take rumors seriously, she had always felt that it nothing more than gossamer gossip. Nevertheless, the seriousness of situation taken alongside with the tangible evidence made her mind race, contemplating whether or not Gohan Son could have done such a thing. As much as she hated the guy, she wasn't entirely sure if he would do that. In fact, she hoped that he wasn't capable (perhaps foolishly on her part) of that. She didn't want anything more to lay grounds on her cynicism. An eleven year old threatening an entire population of muggle-borns, a status he himself holds. What more is it than disturbing?

Despite her hopes, cynicism gnawed at her mind relentlessly. Action had to be taken. Her father's heroism was just as prevalent in her character.

Her brain stretched itself, looking inside itself for possible roads to action. Common sense told her that before pursing a subject, you need to know what it is. That was the first step for her.

_Hmm, maybe the library has something about the Chamber of Secrets. That's it, I'll go to library. Erasa and Sharpener? They're out of my plans; they'll just get in my way._

"I'm going to the library," Videl said, making the pointless altercation halt.

Erasa turned her head towards Videl. "Why?"

_Why do you question me now of all times? _"I want to look something up for the test we're having next class."

Sharpener closed his eyes and sneered wryly, scoffing at her. "All of the sudden you actually care so much about a test to go to the library and look something up? That doesn't sound like the Videl I know."

Her gaze ravaged him heatedly, making Sharpener feel uncomfortable. "Maybe I had a change of heart, ok?" she said, an acidic tone incorporated into her voice, scouring any cockiness in him.

Both Sharpener and Erasa grimly looked at each other, each of them perceptive that they couldn't do anything. "Sure Videl!" Erasa cheered, her voice more of an affectation of contentment than anything else.

"Good, so see you guys later." She waved stolidly then left for her destination.

--

The tired old man, Dumbledore, tapped his foot restlessly, waiting for Snape. Dumbledore mindlessly stroked Fawkes, his phoenix, while he stared at the office door. His eyes were wizen and befuddled as he thought of the mysterious student, Gohan Son.

The rumors of Gohan being the heir were alarming to him. The strength the boy commanded was unseen in any other student. As a first year, the boy already was stronger than Tom Riddle as a fifth year. And when the boy merely shrugged off all the acclaim he received off, and when rumors had swirled around the school that he was a parselmouth, that was enough to give Dumbledore a gargantuan headache.

'_Rumors are exactly what they are, just rumors. They are not facts Headmaster.' Ah Minerva, if only I could be as skeptical as you. However, I am not, and I will have to take the utmost caution with this boy, for he is capable of great things, but if darkness takes him, we will face an even greater monster than Voldemort himself. _

_Apathetic, incredibly powerful, a Slytherin, and now a parselmouth, who coincidentally conjured a snake immediately after the Mrs. Norris incident. Did he play a sick joke, truly mean the words on the wall, or did he have no place in the incident? And if no involvement, did he conjure a snake as merely a joke to trivialize the incident, and if so, is that not a warning sign that the boy has serious mental problems?_

_A strange boy. A boy, even I cannot understand. And his friends, the son of the legendary Pires family, and the daughter of Xenophilius, both of them not your typical student. _

A rapt of a fist snapped Dumbledore out of his thoughts. "Come in Severus."

Snape opened the door then trudged in, a carapace of indifference lay on his face. "What did you want Headmaster?"

"Advice," Dumbledore said. "Advice, on what to do with a student of yours."

Snape raised an eyebrow, mildly curious. "A student of mine? Who is it?" he asked, flatly.

Dumbledore took a breath then released it slowly, clearly enervated. "Gohan Son. The rumors circulating around Hogwarts concerning him have been... disturbing."

Snape shook his head. "Headmaster, they are merely gossamer rumors, place no real credence to them. Yes, Mr. Son is very powerful for his age, but I don't believe he's a parselmouth. Rumors are not facts headmaster, and parseltongue is a rare ability."

Dumbledore's eyes grew increasingly haggard, his blue pupils now almost as invisible as a wraith. "Do you not notice the abrupt increase of respect coming from your Slytherins towards Mr. Son? Before the rumors, they had always made him an outcast, shunning him for his differences. But now, I see a deference of respect in each Slytherins' eyes. Can you explain that Severus? Has Mr. Son done anything to warrant such a dramatic change in the other Slytherins?"

The powerful old wizard saw a waver in Snape's stolid eyes, a flash of uncertainty, and now, hesitance to answer. "I can not explain this change," Snape muttered. "But that does not yet prove anything."

"But it gives more likelihood to the rumors, wouldn't you say? They, after all, are the only explanation to the Slytherins' respect towards Mr. Son."

"Just because it is the only explanation as of now, does not mean it is the correct one."

Dumbledore slightly smiled. "I know that Severus. But we must prepare for the worst. I am not going to make the same mistake I made with Voldemort, even if I wasn't the Headmaster at that time, I could have stopped him. If anything, it would be a greater mistake not being warily cautious with Mr. Son since he already is as powerful as Voldemort in his fifth year."

Snape looked at the old wizard, flabbergasted. "That can't be! How can you even tell how powerful Son truly is?"

"I have my ways Severus. No need to know how, but just trust me," Dumbledore said, an unusual edge in his tone, shocking Snape. "With the power Mr. Son commands, and a dark swaying, he could become the greatest threat the wizarding world and muggle world has ever seen."

Dumbledore's startling words brought forth a lurid silence. Snape's pupils contracted, his mouth formed a thin line, and his hands were clenched at his side nervously. "I understand Headmaster. So what do you want me to do?"

The hero of light turned his back, and stared out at the grandiose lake. "Keep him in your sight. Remain vigilant, maintain prudence, and stay sagacious. This is very important Severus. I need your help. Without proper supervision, a synergy of forces could easily create a monster. Do you accept my demands?"

Snape glanced down at his feet then gazed back up at the old wizard's back. The truth was that Dumbledore was correct. Coalescing forces could create a monster, far worse than Voldemort. The mere possibility brought skittish pangs in Snape's stomach. He scowled, hating the feelings of weakness. "Severus?"

"Yes Headmaster, I accept your demands."

--

Creeping through the umbrage of shadows was Hercule's astute daughter, her sneaking as adept as a thief's. Other students had checked out all the books concerning the Chamber of Secrets, so she was left with having to find a book in the Restricted Section.

Filch passed by, an oil lantern spreading light upon his path, while his haggard face's eyes crawled through every crack and crevice in his sight. Videl embraced the shadows, wearing it like a cloak vital to her existence, while she expertly continued to tap noiselessly through the hall, managing to evade Filch once he had turned his lantern opposite of her location.

Now, the only provenance of light was that of the moon. She skipped through the moonlight wading through the intricate windows, and then pushed her lithe back onto the cold stone walls. With one more quick yet studious glance, she took off running, each step merely susurrations, to the east hall, where her goal hid in the library.

With a deft right turn, her boots rapidly slid on the floor then constantly grew tauter with care. A single crack of a foreign step on the floor, made her senses grow in perspicacity. She suddenly became as aware as a snake, her eyes sagaciously wounding around the dark hallway, fluidly like water trickling down a mountain stream. Videl scanned her surroundings, and once satisfied, slipped into the library, her heart beating thrillingly at her successful escapade.

--

"You still haven't found it Hermione?" Harry whispered.

She threw him a berating look. "What about you? You're standing there acting like a fool."

Harry shrugged. "Someone has to keep this cloak on us just in case someone happens to stumble inside here."

Hermione gave him one more scowl, then turned back looking for the book.

They had already been there for about half an hour, haplessly searching through the panoply of books, all strictly forbidden from lying in the hands of a student. Harry scratched his arm, adding further marks to his array of white streaks, plastered onto him by his own boredom.

He sighed for the third time in a minute. He stolidly gazed at a tall bookcase, each row lined with books concerning countless potions. He blanched, Snape getting into Harry's head always sent shivers down his spine. How he hated him...

"Harry!" Hermione's soft, anxious whisper ran down his ear. "Someone's coming! I see a head of black hair close to the door!"

Harry hastily fixed his eyes towards the door, and indeed saw someone. It couldn't have been a professor, because the person was obviously to short for an adult, unless it happened to be Flitwick, but he had a tuft of fringy grey hair. "Put that book back Hermione, let's go to that corner," he said, while pointing at the corner where the bookcase met the stone wall.

Quickly they skittered towards the niche, trying to get there with prudence for a single sound could give them away.

--

"Really smooth Andres, she almost figured out that someone was following her."

Andres grinned sheepishly at Gohan. "Sorry, I was thinking about that awesome kiss Cho gave me."

Gohan scowled. "Now's not the time for fantasizing. We've got to get that book but Videl is going to make this a lot harder than it should've been." Andres nodded.

Gohan's expertly placed disillusion charm hid them from any prodding eyes, including their own.

Gohan had to admit that Videl had displayed artifice in her sneaking movements. As much as he didn't want to acknowledge it, he saw a great deal of potential in her. She wasn't just a spoiled brat.

When Gohan got a hold of Andres, Gohan sharply pushed him forward. Andres sent back an invisible rankled scowl. They tottered their way towards the door, attempting to witness any significant events.

Gohan sensed two energy sources not belonging to Videl. Immediately, he realized that Harry and Hermione were hiding in a corner, somehow invisible as well. _Great, now things are even more complicated. _"Andres, I think Videl isn't the only one in there."

"What do you mean?"

"I have a feeling in my gut, the usual presage I get when I know something is wrong. It's not just her who's there looking for the book."

"Then what do we do?"

"Wait."

--

Harry pushed himself deeper into the cold layers of stone, as if he planned to be engraved in it in order to preserve himself. The spindles of his back where knotted taut, while the hairs of his nape flicked up tightly, as straight as needles.

_What do we do now? _He thought. Probing his brain for a solution made him come up with one idea. Wait. He heard Hermione's unnaturally quiet breathing, like subtle gasps of a breeze. Her arm scraping his was unusually tense, tight as a harp's string. She was rattled and confused, racking her brain for answers to numerous questions she had. He knew that.

He poked Hermione gently, to grab her attention. Once her attention turned to him, he put a single finger at his lips, motioning for silence. At the motion, she sent him a rigid nod.

They looked on at the daughter of the Earth's savior, as she examined book after book. Several books later, her face was evidently flustered – visible even with shadows enshrouding her – from her fruitless attempts. Suddenly, her narrowed eyes flew open. Her hands ran through the pages fervently, hoping to find what she sought. Then, she stopped at a page, mid-way through the book, and lined her fingers over words. "The Chamber of Secrets," she whispered quietly, yet audibly enough for Harry and Hermione to hear. "Twenty pages dedicated to it."

Those few words were like a capsize turning over a boat, Harry now had to rethink his plan. She had the book, and if there were any more books about the Chamber of Secrets, they surely couldn't be more informative than the book Videl Satan held.

There was only one option, dropping the invisible cloak. His eyes turned to Hermione's, looking at her for confirmation. She understood what he wanted, and nodded with slight diffidence. Brusquely, Harry grabbed at his invisible cloak, thrusting it into his pocket at once. "Videl, we need that book," Harry firmly said.

A shocked expression crossed Videl's face. She slowly turned her head, looking at the person who disturbed her. Subtly, her face grew conflagrated. The expression was like a pungent fire emaciating flesh, rotting it into a haggard, hoary form. "Why should I do that?" she asked heatedly. "I need this book too!"

Hermione spoke up. "We know why you want it. It's so you can help stop this 'heir' guy, right?" Videl snappily nodded. "That's great, but look, we're second years and Harry and I have been in dangerous situations before. We can handle this situation better than you can."

Videl grew rankled. Her blue eyes became stormy. She set the book on the shelf next to her. "Do you know who you're talking to girl? I'm Hercule's daughter! What makes you think you guys can handle this better than me?"

Harry shook his head. "You can't because you're not as experienced in magic. Maybe you're physically more adept, but that's not enough. These matters call for magical ability, not physical ability."

Videl would not give in. "And I'm magically incapable?"

"No it's just that..." An abrupt undertone tore through the wind. One flash of skin grabbed at the book, and took off, all in one heartbeat – two heartbeats for the agitated Videl.

"That thing took the book!" Hermione said, a discomfited look filling her face.

"What!" Videl nearly shrieked. "I have to get that thing!" She ran out of the library, her gait only quick silent steps, expertly weaving there way around the furniture and out the door.

Harry and Hermione stood planted on the ground. They stared at each other, perplexed. "Who could've done that?" Hermione whispered.

"I don't know, but we're not following it. It'd be hopeless."

With a final perplexed stare at each other, they flung back the cloak on themselves, each of the wizen with bleakness.

--

Blistering heat rattled a young women's tanned skin. As she pick axed at the moored bog, she – out the corner of her eyes – stared at the tall man giving out orders. Disdain was marked heavily in her eyes, permanently etched contempt against the tall man.

Affectations were what kept her alive to this day, false guises that kept him from shooting her in the head. No, not guises, she never hid her contempt for the man. If anything, the man thrived on her disdain of him, willfully embracing it; it empowered him like nothing else. A man thrives on something of resemblance to him they say, and that applied to the man she hotly glowered at.

She took in a mouthful of sticky languid air. With a lack of alacrity, she plunged her pickaxe into the silt of clay layering the ground next to the river – the Congo River.

Moans hang chilly in the air, as she continued to pick axe callously, the usual moans of overworked souls, who were about to drop dead into the muddy silt. The moans used to gnaw at her soul inexorably, appallingly picking at her curiosity, causing her to lift up her head to witness the macabre sight. What she saw sent fervid chills from her throats to her newly tainted heart. Now, however, she paid no attention to the deaths. The fervid chills were gone, and callous indifference replaced it. Often times she asked herself if her humanity had been torn away. Had she been reduced to an animal? Her heart – or what was left of it – cried yes.

As her thoughts straggled through her head, her green eye caught a metallic glint. She cautiously scanned the area, making sure no one was looking. The tall man was busy using his whip to gouge at a worker's dark skin. _What a despicable man Stryker is. His racism is appalling. _

A studious stare at the item producing the glint revealed its identity. A colorless diamond rested in the wet silt, clearly of great worth. Her years as a jeweler allowed her to, merely with a glance, see that the diamond was a Type II Diamond, an absolutely perfect and pure diamond.

With haste, she grabbed at the diamond, then was about to pocket it when her hand froze. _What am I going to do? I can't sneak this past Stryker. With all those checks he conducts on the workers, there's no way I'll get this through. _She gazed back down at the tattered ground. _I'll have to put this back down in the ground. But can I sneak past his dreadful dogs tonight? _She took in another mouthful of foul air. _I just have to try, a man like Stryker shouldn't even lay a finger on something as pure as this. He should be rotting away in a fiery abyss right now. _

Her fingers stroked the transparent diamond. After a few seconds, she kneeled down and placed the diamond back into the man made hole. One glance back at Stryker, and then she hastily put back the dirt she excavated.

An hour passed, when the red sun began to set. _Finally, now I can get out this patch of hell. _As Stryker's sex toy, she worked six hours less than the other workers, from 5 A.M. through 7 P.M.

Fisting a hand into the dirt, she pulled herself up then tensely walked towards Stryker, her black work boots leaving firm imprints into the damp dirt. Her eyes flicked left and right, careful not to observe the merciless beating Stryker was inflicting on a worker.

Stryker craned his neck, black whip in hand still, and flashed a white toothed grin at her. Her heart fluttered for a heartbeat – much to her displeasure – but then she crushed it out. Stryker was handsome man, despite the ugliness innately engraved in his soul. "Ah Melinda Evans, my favorite, how did the day's work go? Any diamonds I have to know about?" he asked, his voice deep and rasping.

Melinda scowled – something she always did whenever he asked her that question, which was always. He mockingly grinned at her. "No."

"Too bad, but just to make sure you're not trying to sneak one past old Stryker here – you sneaky little bitch you – I have to take off all your clothes because – "

"I know, I know I've gone through this like three hundred times," she muttered tonelessly. The first time he had told her, she had flat out refused, and got a fist in her face for that.

Without a word and just a smirk, he began stripping her clothes down slowly. Her scowl deepened as he inapproachably stroked her. His hot breath skittered her skin like ants. "I thought this was stripping not groping."

Stryker's lips grew taut, forming a beatific smile. "Oh yes, I forgot. The groping part is for later this night." He cackled menacingly and continued to strip Melinda down.

A fervid heat rose from her stomach to her throat, pleading to escape and be released onto the vile man. She rubbed her throat stoutly, resisting the idea.

Once Stryker had finished, she immediately trudged away into the alarmingly dilapidated house she resided in – better than the others worker's still – along with Stryker.

Behind her, Stryker stared wistfully at her backside. Heat built up below him as he thought of the night they would share.

Melinda shuddered when she felt the heat of his stare, all to knowing of the thoughts crossing through Stryker's mind. She shuddered again as it intensified. The usual anxiety welled up in her, as he continued to staring at her, staring, leaving an ethereal feeling indelibly tarring her mind. His gaze, did not feel human, it never did.


	10. The Wilted Plant

School will take up nearly all my time

**School will take up nearly all my time. Don't expect many updates until next summer. I'm sorry, but I just have way to much stuff to do. 3 clubs, my first ever AP class (AP Euro), Cross Country, and hours of homework take up most of my time. Plus, I also like to read for pleasure so now I only type when I feel like it and I have time. Once again, I'm sorry but I can't help it.**

**Disclaimer: what?**

**NOTE:**** Some digressions from the main plot may seem odd and completely distinct from the main story but at some point (whenever I get there) things will wrap up together. hint There's some pretty obvious foreshadowing of this too end hint**

"So here we are with nothing!" Hermione complained as she trudged through the halls towards breakfast alongside Harry.

"How 'bout asking Binns today about the Chamber of Secrets?" Harry recommended.

Hermione fell silent for a few moments. She snapped. "That would work. Hopefully he doesn't get too peeved."

"I never knew you were a prankster Hermione, you're working with Peeves now?" Harry said, then forced odious chuckles.

Hermione rolled her eyes and vapidly regarded Harry. "That's not funny."

"I was just trying to break the ice."

"Well you succeeded, unfortunately in the process you broke it by slipping on a banana peel and cracking the ice with your forehead."

Harry grumbled incoherently. They fell silent for a minute. "Hermione, do you really think there's a Chamber of Secrets?"

Hermione frowned. "I'm not sure."

_Is that a good thing or a bad thing? _Harry thought.

"All I know is that whatever attacked Mrs. Norris isn't likely to be human – Dumbledore couldn't cure her, which is alarming."

_That makes think oh so more peachy! A non-human thing going around petrifying cats, and possibly people. Wow, magnificent. _"Great," Harry said, his voice viscid with sarcasm.

"I know," Hermione replied despondently. "Now, let's think a little harder about that message. Let's assume there's some monster sneaking around the school. The heir of Slytherin has to be human, so, he probably wants to accomplish his task by unleashing the monster. Now, this 'heir' is obviously someone who hates Muggle-borns. If it's a student, and how can't it be unless it's a professor – no one can penetrate Hogwarts without Dumbledore knowing – then it's of course a Slytherin."

Harry let the information set in, then put his mind to work. "Malfoy."

"Malfoy, the heir of Slytherin?" Hermione replied skeptically.

"Look at his family Hermione. The whole lot of them has been in Slytherin; they proudly wear the Slytherin house like an opulent cloak. They could easily be Slytherin's descendents, and who knows, maybe they've had the key to the Chamber for centuries."

"I'm not too sure but it's possible... we need proof first."

"But how do we get the proof?"

"We can spy on him, somewhere, where he feels safe enough to reveal important information to Crabbe and Goyle."

"We can ask Gohan to help us."

Hermione glumly sighed. "I'd rather not."

Harry eyed her, befuddled. "Why not?"

Reticence filled her. Hermione screwed up her face. "We were supposed to have this conversation today anyway. Ok, you know the rumors about Gohan and him being the heir of Slytherin?"

A belligerent expression crossed Harry's face. "Of course I know them! And are you going to tell me you believe them? Well let me tell you that the rumors are nonsense, all the supposed evidence is merely circumstantial!"

"I know Harry, and I don't believe the rumors too. Nonetheless, we have to remain wary of Gohan, because despite the evidence being circumstantial, it's somewhat worrisome. Summoning a snake and talking to it isn't exactly child's play. Frankly, we can't be too sure about Gohan, and we should keep our plans to ourselves for now." Harry's face darkened. "Just for now," Hermione weakly reaffirmed.

"Fine," Harry moodily barked. "How do we spy on Malfoy?"

Another sigh came out of Hermione. "There might be a way," Hermione said while dropping her voice. They stopped at the final corner necessary to reach the Great Hall. "We'll probably be breaking like fifty rules doing this..."

"Frankly, it doesn't matter," Harry darkly said.

"Ok, ok Harry, I was going to agree to doing it anyway, you don't have to use that tone on me." She looked sullenly at him. "We have to get into the Slytherin common room when Malfoy is with Crabbe and Goyle."

Harry's eyebrows rose. "But how?"

"Polyjuice potion. It transforms you into someone else."

A wry smile curled up on Harry's lips. "So we're going to use the Polyjuice potion to become Crabbe and Goyle then try to get whatever information we can out of Malfoy."

"That's it! Wow Harry, you actually followed me this time."

Harry rubbed his nape in embarrassment. "I know, I can't believe it! Is actually following you good or bad?" Hermione scowled. "Hey, I was just joking ok!" Harry chuckled when Hermione's expression lightened up. "But seriously, this Polyjuice stuff sounds a little dodgy. I mean, imagine how terrible it'd be to be stuck as Crabbe and Goyle forever! I think I'd go insane!" Harry haphazardly pulled his messy hair to punctuate the comment.

Hermione giggled. "Silly Harry. But don't worry, it wears off after a while. The only problem is getting the ingredients; they'll be difficult to get a hold of. Snape said in Potions that the ingredients are in a book called _Moste Potente Potions_."

Harry gawked. "Wait, Snape talked about this, where was I when he said that?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "In Harry's Dream World as always, dreaming about flying unicorns most likely."

Harry grunted. "Hey, how'd you know?"

The sensationalism warranted several moments of giggles, leading to an annoyed Harry. "I can't believe you actually daydreamed about that!"

"I saw them on T.V. one time," Harry said, defending himself.

"It doesn't matter Harry," she replied, the last giggles now gone. "Now where were we? Oh yes, the book is bound to be in the restricted section in the library so – "

"We have to go on another escapade," Harry bluntly said.

Hermione considered the glum comment. "How about we just ask for a teacher's signed permission?"

Harry sighed. "Rhetoric over sneaking. Sure, that's fine."

The conversation continued. Once at the Great Hall, they purposely steered clear past Ron – who was eating his food with Seamus – and sat next to Ginny – who happened to be at breakfast, something alarmingly rare as of late.

As they approached her, they noticed that her skin was ghastly pale, her eyes were lumbering helplessly as if with an unseen weight bearing on it, and her hair was haphazardly flung out of place – the typical fiery red color now a carapace of dull streaks. She didn't regard them at all once they sat.

Harry and Hermione looked at each other, there eyes both fraught with alarm. "Ginny," Hermione said, putting an arm around her. "How do you feel?"

Ginny kept her aloof gaze on the wooden table. "Terrible," she whispered, nearly inaudibly, almost as if she endeavored to speak.

"Does it have to do with Gohan?"

Ginny remained detached. "Partly."

"And what's the other part?" Harry anxiously asked.

Ginny's lurid eyes darted around the room, like a tautology of gunshots. After several intractable moments, she opened her weary mouth. "I am summoned, now more than ever. It eats me. I can't resist. He is trying to make me do things I don't want to do."

"Who?"

Tension ringed through Ginny's body. Words failed to come out, even though she seemingly struggled to speak, it was as if her voice was tethered by sinewy twine. Soon, her efforts palled, falling to the arduousness, as easily as a tank battering through a palisade. "What is it Ginny?"

Ginny now looked on the verge of tears, still struggling to speak out. Her body began to shake with anxiety. A manic glint struck Ginny's eyes. "Oh no, I've said too much! He'll know, he'll know!"

"Who'll know?" Hermione asked, now increasingly alarmed.

"I can't tell you! I won't! I have to leave, I have to leave. Leave me alone!" Ginny jumped from her seat and quickly strode away, out of the Great Hall, a monomaniac dread in each and every step.

Hermione was about to chase her, until a firm grip on Hermione's arm held her back. "Harry! We need to know what's wrong with her!" She stared angrily at him.

"I know, but don't you see? We're not going to get anything out of her, we might exasperate the situation."

"But what do we do? We can't leave her like that!"

"I'm not sure Hermione. I don't know. All we can do is think this over."

Fret layered Hermone's eyes. "Think, why must this sound so haplessly pointless now of all times?"

--

"Did I tell you that you were really cool last night?" Andres asked Gohan, while audaciously winking at a fourth year passing by.

"Yep, this is the fifth time. It seems you can't get enough of my skills."

Andres grinned. "It was just really cool. I mean, when I dared you to take off the disillusion charm and try to sneak the book away, I thought you would pussy out."

An incredulous reaction lined Gohan's face. "Gohan Son, pussy out? Those two things just don't go together ok. Here, we'll discuss here.

Gohan and Andres hid in an empty class in order to get privacy to avoid any prodding ears. Unfortunately, for Gohan, privacy meant sacrificing breakfast, something that the Saiyan was already feeling its torturous effects.

"Oh, I'm going to die of starvation!" Gohan complained.

Andres rolled his eyes. "You're always so calm. I guess the only thing that can make you whine so much is food."

"You don't know how it feels Andres! It's terrible."

Andres snorted. "It can't be too bad. How about we try to wrap this up quickly and maybe then we can get a bite before class starts."

Gohan glared at him. "Why didn't you just follow my idea, and wake up earlier? No one would be awake to listen to us."

"Hell no, I need my beauty sleep to keep this chiseled face glowing with sexiness."

Gohan snorted. "Sure, whatever you say Sleeping Beauty. I'll make sure next time to get your charming Prince too so he can wake you up from your eternal sleep."

Andres batted his eyelashes. "Oh Gohan, I can see it now, written in the stars, inevitable destiny. Me and my charming, sweet Prince Gohan!"

Gohan's eyes widened. "Yuk no! On second thought, I think I'll let you sleep forever. You know, it'll preserve your chiseled sexiness." A pout from Andres was a tacit display, thus, Gohan continued. "Now onto serious matters..."

Andres clapped his hands cheerfully. "Oh goody! Time for the 'Let's worry our ass off segment.' Personally, I prefer the 'Let's rip on Gohan' segment or the 'Let's make out with girls' segment."

Gohan scowled. "I prefer the 'Let's make Andres shut his damn mouth' segment."

"You're just jealous that everything that comes out of my mouth is like music to the female specimen's ears."

"Oh, of course. How couldn't I be jealous of shrill shit being horned out?" Gohan sardonically commented.

"Such impudence! That is malarkey, you should get a detention for such misguided audacity!"

"I'll take that detention, shove it up my ass, then sneak it into your lunch."

"You shall pay for your temerity one day Gohan Son, one day."

"Ok, time to cut it out."

"Cut what out?"

"You know what."

"No I don't."

"Drop it. Now..."

"Drop what?"

"Shut the hell up Andres!"

A melodramatically shocked frown was set deeply on Andres's face. "Jeez, why didn't you ask before? No need to get pissed"

A moment of silence and then Gohan scowled. "Now that you've finally shut up –" Andres huffed. "We can talk about what we've learned. Ok?"

"Sure, Mr. Uncouth"

Gohan rolled his eyes. "Now, from what I've read, the Chamber of Secrets was created by Salazar Slytherin. He kept it a secret from the other founders. Making this succinct, they don't know where the Chamber of Secrets is, but the evidence seems to point out that it does exist. It's rumored that a monster lies inside the chamber, and the heir of Slytherin would be able to control it and make it do as he (or she) willed. Obviously, taking into account the writing on the wall, the heir wants to attack the Muggle-borns. That's pretty much what the twenty pages explained."

"It's unlikely we'll find this 'Chamber of Secrets' – we can try still – so we should focus primarily on figuring out who this 'heir of Slytherin' is."

Gohan nodded. "Exactly. But of course, that won't be easy because of all the Muggle-haters in our house."

"How about we make a list of all of them and you know, do some detective work!" Andres exclaimed excitedly.

Gohan groaned. "Only if we don't have secret names."

"What? You want secret names? Ok then Gohan, remember you're Hot Cheeks, I'm the Dark Avenger."

Gohan dully considered his friend, raising his hands to strangle the blithe Spanish boy.

--

The next several days involved several spying sessions (an entire day for each person) and name crossing, their search for the heir so far hapless.

Breaking away from their sessions for one night, after failing the first time to get books to help Andres improve his magical ability, they had to go sneaking through the night again. Over the last several days, Andres had progressed rapidly, and now, was already two years advanced.

They professionally conducted every spy session. They had almost blown their cover one time, when Andres saw Cho, and foolishly shouted at her while he and Gohan were disillusioned and just behind a Slytherin prefect. Some smooth talking and use of the "Heir of Slytherin" act helped them get out of the situation.

"Did I tell you what you did yesterday was beyond your usual stupid moments?" Gohan incisively inquired.

Andres grunted roughly, still embarrassed and disgruntled, Gohan's insistent teasing not helping his mood. "Drop it Gohan, drop it, let's focus on DADA."

Gohan smirked and raised an eyebrow. "Focus on DADA? So un-Andres like, must be something wrong with you."

Andres grumbled, so inaudibly that even Gohan's astute Saiyan hearing couldn't pick it up. "Hello Gohan and Andres," a dreamy voice came from behind the boys.

"Hi Luna," both boys greeted. "Sit down," Gohan said, then got up and politely grabbed the chair next to him, making room for Luna. At the courteousness, Luna gave him a bright smile, and then sat. Gohan sheepishly grinned back. Andres struggled to hold back snickers, his lip trembling.

Three heartbeats of silence later, the Saiyan regarded Luna. "Andres and I were just talking about that little incident he had when we were spying on the Slytherin prefect."

"Oh yes," Luna exclaimed with dreamy excitement. "You told me all about it. A slight lapse of concentration can bring upon dangerous consequences. I have to say that even though Andres is bright, the asininity of the mistake does not in the least surprise me."

Andres tensed and shot her a displeased look. "What? I know I have these sudden urges, ok? Stop picking at me for developing faster than everyone else. What's wrong with letting my hormones naturally come out to express themselves? It's better than suppressing my urges like some wuss."

Luna smiled at him without arbitration. "I don't know. I don't mind. Occasionally it can get you into trouble, so I give you advice. Throughout many cultures, suppressing urges is highly renowned, and rightfully so because urges can flounder the mind's rationality. Recall my last sentence."

Gohan smirked at the sight of Andres's puzzled expression. "What was that?" the Spanish boy drawled.

"She answered all your questions; I can't believe you didn't realize that! You of all people. Didn't you tell me that one of the most important things in communication with a girl is to actually listen? Well, it seems the pupil has beaten the master on this part."

Luna's tranquil smile edged into a more mocking one – shockingly – while Andres scowled.

"Ok class, settle down now. As I explained in our previous lesson, today I will recite numerous tales of my daring adventures. Drama, debauchery, grandiose debacles worth of paramount deference." Lockhart exclaimed dramatically. Gohan and Andres sent each other overly shocked expressions, their jaws hanging wide open, their eyes almost popping out their sockets. Luna saw the derision and giggled. "Refulgent in brilliance, incandescent in coruscation, cogent in enticement. –" Lockhart took a deep breath in order to shape suspense.

"Opaque in obfuscation," Andres heftily drawled.

"Revolting in effeteness"

"Torpid in dullness." The boys' derision drew another fit of giggles from Luna.

Lockhart continued. "And occasionally, marked by macabre arduousness leading to almost impossibly dangerous quagmires of impasse requiring astute artifice from yours truly."

"Are pink teddy bears really that dangerous?" Gohan sensationally asked Andres.

"What a stupid question Gohan! Of course, only the oh so handsome Gilderoy Lockhart himself can stop such a monster!"

"You two are really silly," Luna said, hints of laughter ever-present in her dreamy voice.

"Someone has to do it around here, or else the percentage of seriousness in the air skyrockets," Andres professionally remarked.

"And if that happens, the school's air supply becomes tainted with huge amounts of seriousness, making every single student into dull, sodden creatures. What a nightmare!"

"Exactly."

They refrained from listening to Lockhart lest they cringe at his odious babbling.

Luna sighed. "Well, a small burst of seriousness in the air won't do much harm. Once again, I would like to offer my help to you two. I really can assist in finding the heir, don't worry about me, I can stand my own."

The boys both glanced at each other, looking to confirm what to do. Acquiescence had become the latest thing for them, but now, as they continuously learned more about each other, it came naturally. Hesitance mollified.

Andres turned his gaze towards Luna. "If you really want to help us, then we'll let you. But Gohan and I can still go as a duo without you when we feel it's not right to put you in danger."

"That's better than nothing I guess."

xx

"Mr. Son, can you please help me with my demonstration? You can be the wolf and I will be my usual striking self," Lockhart's cheery voice urged.

Andres sniggered at the sight of the Saiyan's distraught-raided face. Luna glanced curiously at the Saiyan. "Fine," Gohan tersely replied. Being part of Lockhart's ridiculously loquacious story was not something the Saiyan looked forward to. _Dende's version of an unwarranted castigation. _

Lockhart gave the Saiyan a studious look. "Cheer up boy; you are, after all, working with the world's most famous wizard!"

Gohan got up and languidly strolled towards the front of the room. _More like the world's most blathering wizard. Honestly, the innate interminable quality riddled in his speech is jaw-droppingly torpid. He rambles insistently, and it, with time, aggrandizes in stupidity, each flippant word adding to an ever-expanding wound. Oh Kami, why? _Gohan stood stiffly in front of Lockhart.

Smiling, the five-time winner of Witches' Weekly Smile Award placed both hands gently onto Gohan's shoulders. "Now Mr. Son, get down on all fours, we have to make this a realistic enactment." Snickers ran livid throughout the room.

Gohan grimaced, but then reluctantly got on all fours, although, he first scooted away from Lockhart – he never wanted to be crouching on all fours right in front of Lockhart, he had his dignity after all (who knows the jokes Andres would crack up too?). "Good," Lockhart said with usual extenuating smile. "I can turn your head into a wolf's if you would like."

Gohan blanched. "That's ok professor, I'll be fine." Gohan did not want to entrust Lockhart with such a task. The contingence of the demi-saiyan returning to normal after his head's transformation wasn't a disencumbering exculpate.

"Very well then. I'll just place this fake wolf nose on you." Gohan groaned innately, as a small furry nose was plomped over his.

"Aww he looks so cute!" A Ravenclaw girl squealed. Gohan blushed, still unaccustomed to receiving such compliments

_The one thing I can't help but not show on my face. Need to work on it, I think? Ughh, but I've got Lockhart to worry about now. What will that idiot make me do? Oh duh Gohan, you read all his freakin books. Wait... shit!_

_This is going to be awesome. I'm never going to let him live this down. Never. _

--

Next to a vast expanse of cerulean blue, resting on a white twine wreathed Brazilian hammock, and resonantly snoring heavily was a stout, corpulent man swathed in an orange samurai gi. His heavy lidded eyelids sank into his deep-set eyes, moving slightly in synchronization with every snore. He tumbled around the hammock restlessly, then comically fell off, the jarring impact not enough to awaken the corpulent man now drooling into fine sand.

A tall, lean figure stood studying his master, a dab of incredulous contempt present in his dark eyes. _Such a middling, if not inadequate (gods excuse me), man, our leader. It still does not cease to amaze me. Such latent wisdom in him. _He scowled then rubbed his shaved pate indolently, the itch of a newly shaved head crawling up on his bronze skin, like a tautology of rankles.

Previously several paces back, an even taller man approached him, proceeding to stand alongside the lean man. This man was almost a giant in size, his body thick with muscle. He raised a burly arm and flattened it onto the lean man's black robed shoulder; the giant-like man stared at his sleeping master, eyes brutal and unrevealing.

"Amazing that Master Yajirobe is far more astute than he seems, isn't it Abir?" the lean man questioned.

"Aye Jalaal. The man cut down our best effortlessly; his skill with his mysterious sword is unmatched to anyone I or our tribe has seen, he is without a doubt the one who we have sought for so long."

"And with his arrival ushers in the final phase in a chase dragging through eons." Jalaal smacked the top of his head, attempting to ward off a buzzing mosquito – which had become increasingly common throughout the west coast of Zaire – annoyingly crawling on his pate. With a successful mush, he smirked.

"And what is to follow is the only mystery now."

"Aye, the Forgotten Seer's powers could not stretch far enough to predict the events of this phase, astonishingly. All that is known is that with the commencement of the final phase, Elsopr, there is naught but years before unseen turmoil erupts, perforce impasses all converging into one, massive concourse where destinies and lives will tread to, maundering, straggling and without myopic perspicacity, unaware of the inevitable devastation to ensue."

"Years are but seconds to us Bashi."

"It is true and sound what you say Abir. True and sound."

"Then we must part ways soon friend, we each will meet our individual impasse in a few years, and then we take different paths, yet still treading to the same concourse as you said, blindly of course."

Jalaal grimaced. "Aye, an inevitable truth." Silence fell for several moments, an occasional gusting breeze scratching the patina of stillness like a knife on a stone tablet. He fixed his obsidian eyes onto his master, studying him for what had been the millionth time in the last year – his memory was as fresh as the sea.

He clenched at the wound on his once vambraced right forearm – now in tatters and hidden by black cloth – as it sent a renewed, sinewy pain ringing up his arm. A spasmodic jerk then wringed through his right arm, making it wilted as a dead flower. His ever-present scowl deepened. "Ralida should look at that," Abil said with his usual sodden tone.

"You know I would never let her damned healing powers even come within fifty meters of me," Jalaal grated. Abir stood stolidly, and did not further press on lest he prefer to listen to another temper tantrum. Abir's silence further irritated Jalaal but he too remained silent.

Moments later, Jalaal spoke up. "We will face a thousand troops after trekking a hundred kilometers east.

"An assuaging exoneration," Abir commented dryly.

"I love whenever you use sarcasm, it sounds beautiful coming from you, Abir."

A feral smirk hung on Abir's dry, cracked lips. "A trick I've mastered Jalaal. And one of those I use sparingly and precisely at the perfunctory moment."

Jalaal grinned, but it then fell, swathed by an apathetic line. "The sword glows like an emerald whenever he unsheathes it," Jalaal said, digressing from the other topic, and flicking his eyes towards the sheathed sword on Yajirobe. "Foreign magic radiates from it, I can tell."

Abir grunted. "Yes, I know. There is no need to remind me of your rank, Mage."

Jalaal chuckled. "Jealous of my magical capabilities, are you Abir?" Jalaal mockingly questioned, his eyes teeming with mirth.

Abir scowled. "I am just fine with my position of First Blade in the Pyre Blades. Magic is for the weak, for those who cannot overcome physical malignity," Abir coldly stated.

"I sense bitterness in your answer."

"I speak naught but truth friend. You and the other mages, including the Arch Mage, cannot even hold your own with a sword and without magic for more than ten seconds."

"Ahh friend. The same can be said of you and your blunt Pyre Blades. Within a magical accosting, none of you could hold your ground for more than ten seconds."

Abir fell silent at this, much to the pleasure of Jalaal. Jalaal turned away from the west and faced the east, grimly staring off at the endless mantle of tawny sand. He went into concentration. Immediately, palpable palpitations banged his mind with dark strength, an abscond force he could not penetrate. _Then remain a secret. I no longer care about the about the lack of perspicacity, the roads will merge no matter what. _ Abir rubbed his forehead in pain and opened his mouth, taking a deep breath of humid air then releasing it. _An ensuing struggle. A struggle that has gone on for hundreds of thousands of years ending immeasurable lives. All due to a synergy of nauseating zeal, taut terror, and pontificate power. A discovery of the goals of the new enemy, our kin, then, a cunning façade, leading us tumbling, maundering, and haplessly trudging this world for decades, a concise summary of a war spanning eons. And now, a new phase in this journey. The fourth phase in saving galaxies from decimation. The beginning, the Elsopr, of the soon to be end, set into motion, by this man, Yajirobe, the long prophesized Emerald Sword. _

--

Gohan groaned at the sound of loud calls ringing through his ears. With his right hand, he smacked listlessly at the person.

"For Merlin's sake wake up!" a familiar voice urged.

Unfortunately, for the one urging, sleep still mashed at Gohan's senses, making it almost impossible to wake up the Saiyan. Fraught with impatience, the boy grabbed the Saiyan's shoulders, and then harshly shook him.

"Andres is that you?" Gohan languidly asked, his eyes still firmly shut and his senses just barely perking up.

The boy scowled. "No, it's me, Urquhart. Your friend is still sleeping; Vaisey is still trying to get him up."

Gohan yawned, opened his eyes, then sat up on the edge of his bed. "Why'd you guys have to wake us up? It's Saturday after all."

The boy's natural scowl deepened further. "And they call you the Heir of Slytherin? What a load of bullcrap, no Slytherin pride at all! You can't even keep track of your own house's Quidditch matches, and today of all days, against the Gryfindors."

Gohan frowned icily. "Maybe if all you guys weren't a bunch of dickheads I would care more about my house. There's no pride in being in a house with a set of prejudice bigots."

Urquhart sneered. "If I had any doubts, they are all but confirmed. You think you have all of us fooled, don't you? But I am not stupid. I know what you're doing. I've seen you with Potter and Granger. I've seen you with Lovegood as well, and of course, everyone knows about you and Ginny. Many Slytherins presume that you were trying to screw with Weasley's heart, but I know better. You are not a true Slytherin, all those sneaking up on the Slytherin escapades to find the true heir..." Urquhart paused, hoping to see a flinch in Gohan. Urquhart's scowl became increasingly prominent at the sight of a stolid, almost bored, Gohan.

"I know about. I am not like the stupid French Prince, I take action not just blather rhetoric. And remember this Son, I will get you out of this house someday. Perhaps not this year, perhaps not next year, but someday and I'll make your life a living hell, and I am not the only one, there are but many behind the curtain." A smile of chutzpah broadly lined Urquhart's features, like a thick red ribbon festooned across a doorway.

Urquhart's vainglory faltered, then collapsed at the sight of an acrimonious smirk on the Saiyan's face. "You, make my life a living hell? That's got to be the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard in my life!" Cackles came tumbling out tersely. Vaisey turned his attention towards the scene. Andres inconspicuously half-opened an eye.

"No, it's not you who can make my life a living hell. It's me. I can make you lose everything. I'll shred your image, and strike fear in whatever is inside that black pit you call a heart. If you mess with me, I will be your worst nightmare. You'll awaken a primordial beast, who incessantly gnashes at his prey, until he's eaten him whole."

Urquhart grunted angrily then motioned for Vaisey to leave with him. Once the two Slytherins left, Andres shot up from his bed and walked up from behind Gohan.

"I guess your suspicions that he was spying on us were right. But do you think one of them is the Heir of Slytherin?"

Gohan slowly faced the Spanish boy, a sodden expression prominent on the Saiyan's face. "Not a chance. The way he responded, was not the way an heir would have, I know it. There's something behind him, skeins of mystery for now, you heard him. Might be trouble, but that's for another day. By the way, good job acting your part."

Andres smirked. "Our best investigation so far."

Glumness flashed across Gohan's guise. "A month in, half the house crossed off, and these investigations aren't getting us anywhere. Do you think that we were presumptuous in believing that the heir of Slytherin was a student?"

"Possibly. Do you think a teacher would do such a thing?"

Gohan's eyes hardened. "There's a chance, but I think it's a low possibility. This may seem precarious; nevertheless, I feel it is more likely than a teacher being the heir." The Saiyan paused.

"And what is it?"

_I sense it's ki occasionally, dark magic whirls around it when I sneak out of school to train. I cannot tell where it is though, can never pinpoint it. Weak yet overwhelmingly dark, and then it disappears just like that, not reappearing for weeks upon end. I have noticed a pattern however, firstly, this ki is more frequently coming to life as the nights pass. And secondly, a weaker, unidentified person is guiding it, the whirling dark energy mask keeping a firm grip on that person. _"Someone has broken in. Someone, very dangerous. I can sense something Andres – I have a power I have inherited, the ability to decipher presages. A strange palpitating presence, I cannot entirely pinpoint unfortunately. It's dark, malign, and an enigma presently." Alarm sank into Andres's face. _This has to border on the realistic; I can't make Andres overly suspicious of me. _"And it's going to wreak more havoc. Andres, the heir is not a student. Wishful thinking feebly kept our investigations invigorated, I was hopeful that such a possibility was not true. I can now not deny it, there is a dangerous presence lurking around school, and how I am not aware. What we now have to do is find the Chamber of Secrets or follow up on my senses the night I feel its presence again." Andres gravely nodded.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

They were but a whit in the silver and emerald sea lurching back and forth like ceaseless waves crashing among each other. To the sea's opposite was another sea, this one ruby and gold, each gilded wave turbulent with palpable emotion. East and west held two other bodies of water, these more pacified, but just as variegated. In between the four seas was no man's land, or perhaps more accurately described as no man's air. Rather than barren, the air was fraught with frenzy, brooms whizzing past like slick quarrels riveting with alacrity, beneath the murky sky.

The Saiyan's eyes easily held onto the sight of Harry, who was ripping through the air, chasing the golden snitch while Malfoy pursued only two heartbeats away. Andres had explained the rules of Quidditch to Gohan. The game sounded exciting, but the Saiyan's celestial senses removed the most visually stunning part of Quidditch, the speed. Yet, a twinge of excitement found its way to his Saiyan heart. A twinge of excitement, for Malfoy of all people. True, Harry was Gohan's friend and most of the people in Gohan's house were assholes, but Slytherin was his house. The demi-Saiyan would never deny it; he was in the house for a reason. A reason he was not sure of as of now.

Next to him, Andres's eyes were wide and moving, while he cheered for Slytherin too. _Probably the same reason I do. It's sad that one of the least Slytherin (according to the assholes) kids in the house is the most passionate one too._

"Dude, Gohan, we really have to make the team next year." Gohan shrugged. "What does that mean?" Andres drilled.

"I'm not too sure. Maybe, if I have nothing else to do," Gohan flatly replied.

Andres frowned. "You make it sound like it's boring."

"I think it's ok but not super exciting."

"Something's wrong with you. Whatever, we have to make it still. And I'm sure we will. I've got my dad's genes in me – he used to play in a Spanish club team before becoming a Curse Breaker – and your agility is incredible, including your senses."

They both turned their eyes back towards the action, immediately then witnessing the Bludger hurling towards Harry, who managed dodging it narrowly. Gohan sighed in relief.

His eyes traveled alongside the Bludger. George gave the speeding Bludger a powerful smack in Adrian Pucey's direction, but the Bludger abruptly changed its course then shot at Harry again.

Once again, Harry hastily sank his head down, feeling the Bludger almost rake his hair alight with its regenerated velocity. George for the second time stiffly clouted it, this time towards Malfoy. Incredibly, the Bludger simply turned back to hurl at Harry, as if he was a lodestone.

"What's going on? Bludgers don't act like that," Andres said as he grimaced. Gohan now studied the field with apprehension, trying to find any abnormal ki signatures, but everything felt normal.

--

Harry took no time to think. He turned on an extra gear and tore his way through the previously tranquil wind. The Bludger, however, still was trailing closely, gnawing at each bit of air Harry tore apart with speed.

Fred was properly positioned, waiting for the Bludger on the other end. At the right moment, Harry gingerly pressured his broom to produce a deft drop towards the field. Fred, with every ounce of stalwart strength inside him, whacked the Bludger off course.

Crying a cheer, Fred victoriously shot his arm into the air; shortly after, nonetheless, the Bludger pelted towards Harry yet again. Harry now was forced to fly off at full speed.

The dark clouds previously hovering tentatively now coalesced together and sent down heavy drops of water. The pouring rain splattered onto Harry's face, spraying tendrils of water onto his glasses, the growing accretions of water gradually obfuscating the vision of the field, thus rendering Harry to mere maundering. "Slytherin lead, sixty points to zero –"

_What am I going to do? There's a mad Bludger constantly chasing me, Slytherin are leading, and my vision is too blurry to look for the Snitch! _

"We need to time out, someone's tampered with the Bludger," Fred said, as he rode alongside the blind Harry. George, on Harry's left, attempted to signal to Wood. Madam Hooch's whistle soon rang out; obviously, Wood had gotten the message.

--

The silver and emerald sea jeered and stomped, appearing like a swelling tide.

"What the hell is happening Andres?"

"Someone's tampered with that bludger."

"They have to stop this game then!"

Andres sighed. "I guess Madam Hooch still hasn't noticed."

The Saiyan's eyes became slits. "But it's blaringly obvious that it's targeting Harry!"

Andres remained silent, unsure of what to say. Gohan glared at the field, staring at the soggy grass, scouring it for anything out of the ordinary. Moments later, the Gryfindors disintegrated from their huddled group, ready to commence with the game again. Despite their confident stride, they were encumbered by skittish qualms.

The droplets suddenly coagulated, growing ever voluminous. At Madam Hooch's whistle, Harry kicked off from the grass, alarmed Saiyan eyes trailing him. Harry flew higher and higher, zigzagging, crisscrossing, looping aimlessly around. He kept flying around the stadium, seemingly arbitrarily.

Suddenly, Harry brought his broom to a halt, flicking his eyes towards the Snitch. Gohan's eyes widened.

The Bludger was but centimeters away from Harry who was unaware, his attention diverted towards the Snitch. At a remarkable pace, Gohan's mind raced then formed a decision.

An arcane blue ball of light wasted the Bludger completely, sending a din resonating through the moist air, reaching all the students ears. Everyone came to a brusque halt. Confusion, fear, mystification, and eventually, apprehension plucked at everyone's heart like the thin fingers of a child.

Heads turned, and eyes cast, silence sank in, the uproar of rain currents the only sound – even that like an echo.

A whistle blew, signaling the end of the game.

xx

The generally calm, twinkling eyes were now flaccid and gelid as ice. Dumbledore sat in his large chair, staring strongly at the young Saiyan sitting to his opposite. The tension was thick and clear, an invisible schism hanging between Gohan and Dumbledore.

Then Dumbledore began. "You are an interest my dear boy, an enigmatic interest. Such power you weld so efficaciously brings about interest, even if you are not aware of it." Gohan sat calmly in his seat, his arms idly hanging limp on his lap, coolness personified. Dumbledore's wrinkles tightened, such balkiness disconcerting. "Such power, with just a dab of brazen chutzpah and non-auspicate guidance can lead you onto a harsh, dark road not distal from light."

_So you actually think I would consider the dark side old man. After all I've gone through... Well, you know nothing of the truth. _

"I remember when I was just a professor here at Hogwarts," Dumbledore continued, his previously dark voice now lighter and crisp with renewed youthfulness. "Tranquility had filled the Wizarding World for decades after the fall of Grindlewald. Peace, prosperity, and placidness like never before."

Dumbledore's eyes grew shadowy. "Unfortunately, such quiescence is just waiting with the patience of a snake to be broken. An acclimation to peace foments complacent behavior, to the point of outright smugness amongst the Wizarding World – our greatest weakness I would say. The beginning of the exploitation of our weakness began with the inception of Tom Marvalo Riddle as a student of Hogwarts."

_Tom Marvalo Riddle, a.k.a. Lord Voldemort. Or more like, as Andres so cleverly said, He-who's-name-I-don't-give-a-shit_

"He was a student of magnanimous ability right from the start. He often times confounded professors with coruscating ability and knowledge. He stood a head taller than his peers in magical capability, he was a giant leap farther in terms of knowledge, and he conditioned his heart several degrees darker. I was there to witness his precipitous rise to power. I was there to gauge the threshold of his powers. I was there to comprehend the reach of his darkness. And most importantly, I was there to feel with palatable certainty the dark depths he would cordially embrace to accomplish his quest for ultimate power. I was there for all this. And I did nothing to stop it. Yes, I told the Headmaster my concerns and the Minister of Magic as well, but they stayed dangerously complacent. Dangerously complacent of the obvious threat."

Dumbledore than sighed morosely. "But I will forever regret not disclosing to them the numerous laws Tom broke. I was stopped for I saw my youthful self within him. Verdant pride in the end was what led to the deaths of thousands. Hearts broken, families torn apart, and bodies crippled. All because of my pride." Dumbledore looked down at the table.

Sullen silence settled. Then, Dumbledore's plaintive eyes were invigorated with resolve. His eyes shifted towards Gohan. "I am an old man Mr. Son. I am just an old, tired man." Gohan wanted to roll his eyes but refrained. "Unfortunately, wisdom has not come to me in concision with my elderly age. On the contrary, I am constantly reminded of my numerous faults. Nonetheless, there is one piece of wisdom that has indelibly sank into my mind; and that is to take out the seed of an obstinate plant before it grows. For once it has matured, it's even harder to plow."

Tension grew unrepressed; the plant grew inexorably. "Mr. Son, I sense the seed within you, and I have to take it out." And then, heretofore, the obstinate plant wilted.


	11. Illusions One and All

**Insert Typical Disclaimer**

**Ok guys, this chapter is going to be very different from my other chapters in several ways. It'll have a different structure, less dialogue, more cynicism, ect. (I'm not giving everything away). The next chapter will be normal.**

**DO NOT READ THE FOLLOWING NOTE IF YOU LIKE TO FIGURE THINGS OUT FOR YOURSELF**

**  
Some people don't like to be told things, even the discreet nuances of a story. I'm one of those people and I would not like to know the author's intent. I like to figure it out myself.**

**Whenever I start a new part of the story, the opening chapter will take this new form.**

**Well, this chapter might seem like a chapter all about messages that are pointless to the story and plot. The structure might seem random. The viewpoints, poems, and plotlines may all seem meaningless. I can assure you otherwise. Remember the name of both Part II and Chapter 11 (hehe and II and 11 look very much alike don't they, maybe there's a connection?). Remember that and that is all you need!**

**  
-sweetarts**

Part II: All That Lies in Shadows

_Heart felt tremors and shredding serrations _

_Torrent trampling and fervid fretting_

_Admonitions_

_Arise, arise, perchance, perchance_

_Escape... the impossible aegis_

_Belated _

_Five raised blood red swords_

_Dozens of twisted shrieks_

_And twin scores of ended lives_

_The blaring trumpets _

_The Lady Comes_

_Death_

_Is Among Us_

-Anonymous

The Unknown Ramblings of Men

Hogwarts Library Section 10000-11000: Ancient Mythology

--

--

Chpt 11: Illusions One and All

_Discovery, doleful_

_Delusion, deadly_

_There you miserly cynic, happy now?_

-Gryffindor to Slytherin during the Infamous Betrayal

--

--

Rain shred its way through umbrage, through foliage, through silence, but not through a Saiyan's focus. Torrents splattered tumultuously onto a floating figure. Ubiquitous howls of wind were the apogee of macabre music, singers of coming ruin. The Saiyan's mind was floating, tipping, glancing on a patina of...

Nothing.

Several hundreds of meters up in the air, Gohan's meditating figure stolidly rode the winds. To his left were the frost bitten crests of the mountains and to his right was the celestial beaming of moonlight on the forayed water – valiantly defending itself from the thrumming rain – a defense anathema to the soon to be presence of new darkness.

Below sat a circular plain of little else but sparse, broken, unknown plants and the silt of a diluvial happening exactly seven days past, more of an ephemeral transition of dying autumn into breathing winter than anything else – or perhaps a diluvial portent of a different revolution.

Moonlight absent, darkness not there just yet.

Shadows magnified eerily in the thickets of brush outside the circular plain as if taunting the principles of physics. Shadows neither of figures, nor of trees strangely. Shadows not of the absence of light, or the presence of darkness. Shadows simply of the presence of... shadows.

Shadows embodied the night, shadows idyllically commensurate to Gohan's mental state of countenance. All thoughts were done long ago. All arbitrary contemplations were ages past. Now, there only were struggles and... _shadows that reflect the happenings. Not of the absence of light, or of the presence of darkness, but of the presence of shadows. But this goes deeper than a reflection, deeper than analysis, all the way to the utmost punctilious depths of evaluation. But evaluation of what exactly? Or more precisely, how do can one evaluate shadows?_

He shrugged and shut down his mind again.

The moonlight dwindled and a wave crashed.

Digressions of the mind from what he would face the next day, the day after that, and several days more and more came upon. The greatest digression for the mind was oblivion. Not the endless scope of frightening white, nor the comforting embrace of provincial darkness – provincial to the one it enshrouded for he or she selfishly was the only one in its embrace – but that of facetious shadows, tricksters of day and night, teasing one to go one way or the other in either a light or dark road. Oblivion, as appealing as it sounded, however, did not bring peace. A middling path was not peace, merely indecision.

_Finally._

A large figure's silhouette loomed on the circular plain, a new gloom heavy on the sodden grass.

Eyes shot open.

A shadow. Not of light, not of itself, but of _darkness._

Oblivion no more.

The moon cried out and the water roared.

--

_This entry may not be as long, well detailed, and convoluted as my other entries. Wrackspurts seem to have invaded my mind and fuzziness has been the according effect. There's no way to get them out because no one wants to blow into my ears! I even asked Malfoy to help me but much to my distress, he ran away from me seemingly frightened! Perhaps the Murky Millows made him scurry with shock? Aha! A dastardly alliance between the Wrackspurts and the Murky Millows! Exactly what I told dad was just waiting to happen. But what to do now? How can I stop the wicked WMM alliance? How can I thwart their wicked concoctions of doom, terror, and chaos? What will happen if I don't stop them? What will happen if they control the school? Will Dumbledore unveil his incredible powers and shoot lemon drops from his wand (the Daily Prophet reported the skill could be controlled and wielded through amazing magical ability and an insatiable love for lemon drops)? Will Professor McGonagall breathe red fire from her mouth like the Weasley twins said she was so very capable of doing and had the burnt marks to prove it? Will Andres make it joke of it all and let the school descend into chaos? Will..._

_**Will Gohan come back? **_

-The Famous, Infamous, and Ordinary People of the Preface to the Shattering

--

Rustling wind swept through frost wrangled grass. Snow was diffident; almost timorous as it should have began to fall long ago. _Snow, a pure pleasantry for me that no one knows about. It has not fallen and I am strangely pleased. Has the pureness of life, then, died out? Has inexcusable, unpardonable sin tainted the life of this land?_

There was an obvious difference these days in not just Andres's life, but the life force of the school itself. Hogwarts was languorous, as if wilting and doddering, its foundations about to fail if ever faced by a belligerent threat. And admonitions were ever whispered by the school to that exact happening. _These changes... they are not all in my mind like many have told me. No, I sense it. There's something dark growing, burgeoning inside these archaic walls. It's conspicuous, and those who say otherwise are merely digressing, hoping to fool themselves. 'This paranoia is like shackles wrapping around you Andres' as Headmaster Dumbledore so foolishly said. No Headmaster, ignorance is that which shackles, with knowledge the shackles can be broken... if you do something about it... and I'm doing something about it._

_But the source is difficult due to its subterfuge character. It cannot be without provenance. Hold it Andres, let's try to deduce from the larger picture to the particulars. I have to answer the questions like what strange occurrences happened before this new darkness? What is now happening? And when did this darkness truly come into power? _

_Ok, the Chamber of Secrets being opened was one thing, but Gohan and I reached an impasse with that lead. What's now happening? Well, nothing really... no, that's if I pretentiously overlook the subtleties. Ginny Weasley has never been going to dinner, something I've just recently realized. And I've seen an alarming number of my housemates grow... powerful. That typical escapade night, out in the Forbidden Forest, just me. Those, incredibly dark spells they cast. Even James is there, surprising just because of how young he is. An army of some sorts connected to the rise of this power? Do they serve this power?_

Andres noted down the idea.

_Ginny, is she someone being influenced by this power? I mean, it's blaringly obvious that it's not a broken heart screwing with her. Even Luna voices some concerns to me about Ginny now that Gohan isn't here. I feel terrible that I've never tried to help Luna, but it seems so hapless right now, because both of them won't say a word. _

_Luna..._

_It's demoralizing to witness her miserable state. And I can't do anything! Why can I use words to get a girl's love but not console a girl in times of distress? I just can't stand it... but there's nothing I can do. Only Gohan coming back can save her from her distress. Oh God, she looks so sick now..._

Andres felt like breaking into tears. His romanticized view of masculinity stopped him however.

_But I have to try to help both Luna and Ginny. If I didn't, I'd be one shitty guy. Is that all I know? Yup, that's all I know about that question. So, when did this power truly start to be conspicuous?_

_At the disappearance of Gohan..._

_And no one can convince me he left voluntarily because that is a load of bull._

_Was the presence afraid of Gohan? It might be, but if it is, how? Gohan's not that strong, or is he? Is Gohan hiding secrets from me? Fuck this! I'm just making myself more confused!_

_Or was it just a coincidence? _

He groaned and gave up. Eyes recumbent, he began to doze.

His head fell onto the frosty grass, and he slept. He did not hear the rustle of shackles.

--

[Two Months Earlier]

As midnight trudged on, Ron ran his fingers through his hair, gazing at the crackling fires.

He had come out of his dormitory into the Common Room out of necessity. His feelings and thoughts had transformed and pensiveness was of imperative requisiteness.

Mulling over the events past, he let out his typical growl.

Ron was thoroughly disgusted, disgusted with himself, with his peers, with the hysteric outcry as mad as fanaticism. A fanaticism directed toward espousing any means to oust Gohan Son, the person he had once so steadfastly reviled.

And like all forms of fanaticism, it spread like an inexorable plague, a spreading poison that took hold in all but those with rationality. The facilitation of plague was the result of vulnerability, skeins of flawed roots that fed the sick plant that was plague. Hysteria was this vulnerability, the poison overflowing in roots, thus the life force of plague. Clearly, the hysteria rooted in so many of the students' minds made possible this plague-spread fanaticism. Clearly.

How latent the relationship between hysteria and fanaticism now. Like overworked, adroit hands beginning melding with one shackle, then adding links of silver chains on and on as a nexus, until the links met the final shackle. The result? A seemingly unbreakable weapon – oh yes a weapon for it wielded itself for its own selfish gains – which wrapped taut around one's mind, almost impossible to break, explaining the strength of fanaticism.

This fanaticism exploited the heart and was reliant on an ailing mind. Despite its dual actions on the greatest centers of human activity, only one condition needed to be met. One must recall that the mind was wrapped by the shackles and chains. A purposeful stratagem employed by the weapon, yes a weapon controlling itself. A stratagem that was based on the fact that the brain was the supervisor of the heart, controlling pathos with reason, like a guardian of stability preventing the bubbling cauldron from exploding. When the guardian was gone, the mind was bound, the cauldron ignited, then pathos became an overwhelming deluge.

A deluge bringing plagued silt ensuring the growth of plagued plants. The heart was now an uncontrollable flooded world of wet land, plague-struck plants growing with every passing day until the heart could never be retrieved from the poisonous roots.

These roots could be cut in time, however. Catastrophe needed not be perennial. Deluge needed not be forever. Plague needed not to be evermore.

No.

The heart could be rebuilt, the water could be dried by sun, the plague could be destroyed by cutting the tangles of poison rooted in the heart.

This was possible. This was feasible. But such a task was not doable without the guardian. The guide needed to be released from imprisonment. The mind needed to be released from its cell. Its innocence needed to be proven. Suitably enough, the mind's exculpation was the result of beautiful reason mixed with luring pathos for that is how any prisoner is pronounced not guilty. The jury has need to see the facts and feel the sense of pity or compassion (no distinction is important in this circumstance) in order to side with the prisoner.

Thus, Ron's new goal was to mitigate the flood, heal the victims of plague, and employ reason with emotion.

No one knew better than he did to heal the sick for he was once like them. He knew all this, his stratagem to save his peers, because he himself had been saved by another. By Harry Potter.

That thoughtful night, the first out of shadows of his room and into the light of the dormitory, he reconciled pathos with what he had always been missing.

Reason.

And he saw that they were the greatest allies of them all.

_I will rid them of this plague. _

--

Midnight's grasp began to grow weak, yet it held on as moments flowed down the continual one-way waterfall of time. Nevertheless, moments like these made one forget about time, as other elements looked to choke it out of one's mind.

Time was an element that people believed was singular, that flowed one way. No, that was not the case. It was conceited to take such a limited stance, to believe that time was dependent on our perception and senses. We – including all creatures and all inanimate objects – were not the makers of time. Time went on even if all the living was gone. Time went on even if stars and galaxies were destroyed. Time went on even after the end of a universe.

For time took a myriad of unimaginable forms. It was not singular, it did not just go forward – or what we believe to be forward – falling out as water to splatter on rocks. Rather, it could go backwards, up, down, diagonal, it could move arbitrarily, randomly, purposefully. It could flow against itself. When the most fundamental element that we can perceive could be so varied, obdurate, and baffling we cannot help but feel small and insignificant.

Our inconsequentiality to the universe, to the elements, to the dimensions takes immense humility to grasp and pride to undermine.

Such a truth, that everything around us is indifferent, is greater than any tragedy Shakespeare wrote.

Darkness engulfed the room in which he was in, a sundry classroom in an unknown area of school. He was lying down on his back, unheeding of the arcane filth spread on the wooden floor. His eyes lulled then shut as he sent himself into a world were he had to face that which he did not want to believe.

Conflicting thoughts ran through Harry's mind as he deliberated deeply about what had transpired. A sphere of magic far to advanced to have possible come from Gohan – even if he was a genius— had made the school erupt with rumors.

And terror.

They had called for his head. They had shouted sadistic words. They had sent spells his way. They had appalled Harry beyond anything, beyond even his own aunt and uncle.

_He didn't deserve that. I don't care what mysteries he's hiding. He did not deserve that. And it's all my fault. _

"_Perhaps it is not"._

_  
Who is this?_

"_An abscond force beyond your capacity of comprehension little boy."_

The shadows flittered on the floor and Harry lifted his back up off wood.

_What is that supposed to me?_

"_You need not know. Such matters have no pertinence to you. After all, you are just a trifling fiber of one frivolous root in one vast skein of conspiracy."_

Harry shuddered. He did not understand, but the man's (or thing's) words beleaguered his heart with awesome power. Enigmatic and overwhelming feelings began to engulf him. He felt miniscule.

_Then what do you want with me if I am so unimportant?_

He could not handle such a notion. Harry had pride.

"_I want to pass on an admonition."_

_About what?_

"_About the half Saiyan."_

_The what?_

"_The one you call Gohan."_

_The... what?_

"_Saiyan. He is not what he appears. He is a con, a charlatan, a fraud, a deceiver, a veil, an illusion. Trust him not for he lies."_

_How do you know this? How can I trust you?_

"_All will be clear if you accept to do what I demand of you."_

Harry's pupils, despite the darkness, shrank as his body trembled with fear and disturbance.

_I cannot do such a thing. How can I accept the demands of some mysterious, obviously powerful, possibly evil force?_

_Perhaps you would mull over the decision a while longer if I told you the lives of your fellow students shall be in put in parlous risk if you do not agree."_

Terror took hold of Harry's body. The room's dimness seemed to elevate, like a blanket being tediously stitched.

_Who are you ?! _

"_Did you not listen? You are of no importance to such matters. Your idiocy, pontifications, and delusions are wearing my patience. "_

Harry's eyes grew watery. There was something deleterious about this force. And he was going to compromise with it, an event more frightening than anything else.

_I accept._

"_A wise decision child. A wise decision."_

--

[Another Timeline]

A ghastly voice in a desultory alley of the new and improved West City:

"The city, oh the city the world views as the beacon of inspiration and progress. The new New York City, the new London, the new Tokoyo, everything all intermixed in one and perennially superior to all. A delusion, this belief in the actuality of flux. No, everything remains the same. You will see that. So now, my fellow self-patronizing gracious citizens. Listen to my story, oh yes listen to Bashar's story. It would be wise, yes infinitely wise, to listen to me for I have admonitions to you confidents. Illusions will be dismantled and veils torn. And this is good, for the blind are ignorant, and ignorance is not innocence but erroneousness and erroneousness is malignity. Listen ye gracious, listen to me."

"The troupe expands to mellowness. Virtue declines into slivers of streams. Oceans of darkness whelm virtue into narrowness. Light conforms to dark, its shadowy beams. History emerges sickly bitter. Earth falling down to hell. Rivals resurrected all astringent, a revived litter. Shadows arise, out of the shell. Death is brought and it arrives. Life is destined to destruction. Eyes are blinded as light dies. Worlds and realms, universes and galaxies, gods and goddesses, humanity and foreigners, all will face the repercussions."

"Of that which comes."

"The troupe expands into mellowness. Ah ripe this fruit, sanguine to eat. We eat one and all, and oh the troupe's inflatedness. Expands it does, a new player pours on the heat. The Realm of Darkness and Shadow breathes again. Awoken from its long sleep by a foreigner earthling who is the lie. And now, the troupe expands and the first repercussion begins."

"My gracious citizens, time to die."

Invisible eyes, hidden by darkness, lighted into fire.

No shrieks, no yelling, no cries.

Nothing, as rapid jaws wrapped around innocent throats, crushing life.

"The first drops of blood spilt in this new world for the ancient war. A new world that is no better, no different from the last. Ah, it is so good to be alive."

--

Variegated light colors – blue, red, green, and yellow – whirled throughout the large clubroom, bouncing off the groups of dancing bodies. The futuristic mechanical music spread all over like the ebb and flow of waves, stentorian sound rolling around ubiquitously, hitting black walls with interstices of space, the walls glowing a green radioactive hue. Yelps of pleasure and jests of drunkenness harmoniously mixed with the music, like blood with water.

What a showpiece, the pièce de résistance of life, a club.

Of twisted convivial nature.

The new way of the young adult life, to follow the same banal path trekked by many others years past and throughout anachronistic history, in multiple seemingly indistinct forms, but all one in the same in vaporous dissimulation, the same grand infirmity.

Flailing arms in the air, thrusts of breasts into a dancing partner, overpowering drugs, and conspicuous lovemaking pragmatically taking place wherever possible captured the licentious vibes of a 2 A.M. night thick with unrestricted satyr, no one to adjudicate.

"This is life!" a man claimed enthusiastically like a sine qua non, filled with the vigor of his heart and intractable pathos. "And that is my shadow, just wishing it was like me, that's why I always lead and it always follows!" His partner laughed, not even listening to him.

Thin shadows cajoled, sauntered, and gamboled jestingly.

Bodies, dead or alive no one was sure or cared, lay sprawled throughout the club, Trunks lovemaking with a beautiful redhead far off in a dark corner next to the unconscious body of his best friend, Montevion, and his nameless nude companion. The rising mist of a powdered then smoked narcotic rolling drowsily as slow billowing waves, Trunks' vision grew hazy, his lovemaking growing every groggy. Lips began to miss targets, hands began to move inexorably adventurous, and eyes burgeoned with veils of mist.

Two lips, three pairs of eyes, no nose.

_Slap me once and bite my ass, she has no nose now. But wow, she is sooooo tasty! Yum yum, like soap, potatoes, and thong! SO GOOD!_

_Woah, what's that funny white stuff in her eyes? Where's her perty green eyes? She's a Super Saiyan you know Trunksy boy, except with gorgeous red hair, like a tub of blood! What a bath huh? Nothing better than a bath in tomato sauce, filled with meatballs and tuna, and... something... like soccer balls._

_Why she's so stiff now? This is no fun! Doesn't she realize that sex needs passion, emotion?! _

Trunks slowly turned his head toward Montevion as if his head was hanging by gossamer strings and his brains would spill out messily onto the black-marble tile floor with the slightest bright movement. "Hey buddy, Montevion, why is this girl – what's her name again – all stiff and crap? You told me buddy that she was one of my wildest fangirls! What the fuck is this?"

No reply.

"What the hell is wrong with you man? Are you going to act like a damn asshole too! Well then, you know what? Screw you and go to blue hell! What kind of friend cockblocks another friend? Oh, I know, one with an overly eager dick!"

Trunks blearily and unsteadily picked himself up, one knee raising first, a hand rolling on top of that knee, pushing himself up with disgustingly strained effort. He staggered once completely arisen, then slumped onto the wall, asphyxiating the glow of a star.

He growled when he remembered what had just happened. "This place is shit! Complete shit!" He yelled at the heartless, heaving hoi polloi. Not a single pair of eyes regarded him but Trunks did not care or even notice. Illusions abounded in front of his eyes.

"A juvenile, puerile, immature farcehouse of bitches who can't spread their legs for me, the billionaire sex icon! I'm going to buy this joint, me, the infallible Trunks Brief and guess what! I'm closing this shithouse, this abattoir of sex!"

An abattoir that even a drunk, drug ingested man could see.

He cackled.

No one cared.

Deject disregard.

Hearts ripped out by the felonious hands of a slaughterer.

Ethos gone.

The nameless girls' – and Montievion – eyes were still rolled back, ostentatious tombstone white, and no one even dropped a tear.

Simple to explain: all the people, dancing or dead, were alike.

Perpetually lost and wandering.

And after all, ghosts did not cry for ghosts.

xx

The technological murmur of hovercrafts and flying cars resonated through the dark alleys, lighted streets, and up onto rooftops, like a lulling droll of a mechanical clock. Voices of miscellaneous emotions mixed with cries of disconsolate poverty, pernicious disease, and mirthful happiness. Laughter coming from a group witnessing the typical street clown crack jokes, and yells from the characteristic gang cowardly assailing an indebted customer, all intertwined fluidly as one, forming a typical city atmosphere.

A city atmosphere normal to its inhabitants, and foreign to its outsiders. The question that had always arisen after the first major neoteric coming together of all types of peoples, people from differing social classes, ethnicities, economic backgrounds, sexual orientations, and religious faiths, was whether the city was the true champion of human progress, the sterling peak of humanity.

Progress, a word with multiples denotations and connotations but bound by one ubiquitous meaning. Whether it was the progress to achieve a particular goal or the betterment of humankind, both meanings implied that something better would be the end result.

Progress, a word with two layers. The first layer everyone praised, regarded with keenness, and embraced. For achieving a goal was simple, straightforward. One did not need to contemplate the nuances, the bindings of the layer. One did not need to contemplate the morality of it all, for all that mattered was achieving the goal and one could label this achievement progress.

The second layer, everyone tried to smother at the back of his or her mind. To disregard, to never contemplate. For the second layer made adjudicating progress difficult, winding. One needed to choose one of the correct paths of the indefinite roads. One needed to contemplate the morality, for to label an achievement 'progress', the betterment humankind had to be the result.

The differing denotations could be mixed when considering a city. Cities were for a long time the pinnacle of human interdependence. They were in themselves productive machines resulting from the combined efforts of people. Cities were symbolized by the growth of the machine, its expanding mechanisms displayed by towering buildings.

There was no denying the productive capacities of a city. As a result, if comparing the definition of progress to the reality of a city, one realizes now more than ever that the definition bifurcates at this particular point. The goal of the city is to improve. But was the betterment of humankind the result?

That was a question that took ages to argue, mull over, tumble with. It would be foolish to believe that such a question could be resolved in the span of a day of thinking. But the pivotal question has been yielded from the tangles of rhetoric.

Now one thing can be said.

Whether in light or darkness or in states of woebegone degradation or sensational triumph, the city was not fluid, not like the ebb and flow of moonlit tides. A city was mechanical.

A night sky loomed overhead Capsule Corp, stars drowned out by city lights. Trunks sighed as he lay on top of the roof, his newly cut hair no longer reaching down his back.

The air was crisp and truculent as if it impugned him with furious, penetrating words.

Newly built towers shot into the night sky, all built by the sister branch of Capsule Corporation, The New-Modern Architects Inc. He had gone to those towers with his friend, Montevion, and two fangirls.

Bereaved grief intertwined with vitriolic indictment were stitched into his heart, heedless of his growing misery; watery eyes, but nothing yet fallen.

The ecumenical all flipped upside down.

They say that the city is a magnificent place, filled with infinite laudable products and trinkets, glamour and galore, glitter and sparkle; but that the pleasing aesthetics were a sham, an artistic veil masking horrors lurking on the outside of the heart like stalking monsters.

And the core, it was empty, hence its meaninglessness and nihilistic qualities.

At times, he couldn't help but believe that idea, as he looked at the monotone dark sky, as he was witness to the asphyxiation of stars, the strangling of hope.

And who were those that strangled hope? Those who envied the hopers and the optimists. Those who could only hope for hope. Such people were empty at their core, filled with perpetual oblivion.

Hence the condemnations of the city, all rooted in its asphyxiation of the stars with its own cursory lights of pretense, like an inveigling bright smile. Its denizens were tricked by that smile, and the apathy toward the smothering of hope was the result. The city lights – the imitators – became the victim, and the starry-lights – the forbearers – became the villains. The stars' lights were merely an obstacle needing to be overcome in order to progress.

_How we sublimate our suppression of the natural. The irony of it all is that we look to imitate that which we suppress. But our imitation is always incompetent for we look to choose the easiest route._

_It can be surmised that a city is champion of pragmatic progress, and the enemy of ethos. How easy it is to say that a city is completely terrible, an execrable being contradicting the natural. This is not true however. Despite the terrible things that can be done in here..._

A tear dropped.

_Despite all that, it is not the one who undermines ethos. Rather, it is we. As we fall into complacency, an atmosphere a city happens to foment, we begin to look at everything with a keen, pragmatic view. _

_It is not the city, no it is not the city. It is our fault. Cities are a great thing I now realize. Oh and I am so glad that I now have come to believe this. The hope now, how it shines like the stars above me. The city is progress, materially and ethically. The thing is that progress comes in various stages. One thing follows another. And that is the case with a city. Ethics and morality follow material improvement. _

_There is so much potential in a city. Before the city, the hole of wretchedness was impossible to claw out, a life of uninspiring pastures and dirt forever. A city gives us opportunity, like parents to their children. There is potential for a new and better life._

_The tragedy is the time it takes for the next stage of a city to arrive. How, how can it be sped up? Now I realize all this, that this city needs to progress._

_How does one stop a city from seeking to imitate the stars by asphyxiating those who dare to hope? _

_  
_A slow smile.

_Trunks Briefs, the answer is simple. This city needs real hope. Not an impersonator, not an envier. No, a beacon of real hope. _

_That is the only path to redemption, mine and everyone else._

His eyes widened.

Blood was thick, floating up into the snappish air like the curlicues of a blameless baby's hair.

--

**In an unknown time...**

Green eyelids lifted back, returning vision to the Namek, darkness and shadows the first sight.

As Piccolo lifted his head from soggy dirt, he closed his eyes again. The need to contemplate before observing was paramount. Something had gone wrong but he could not recall what. A few attempts, but he could recollect nothing, a growl escaping his mouth.

Piccolo was unsure about how long he had been unconscious. It certainly hadn't been a day or three, however. That was what worried him. He had failed in someway and undoubtedly, – at least to him – there would be terrible ramifications. Another growl escaped. More thoughts were fruitless, so he opened his eyelids.

Shock.

He witnessed a foreign world, an alien world. A witness on top of an immense promontory hanging from an immense mountain. The sky was like darkened mercury, the clouds sickly with turgid opaqueness and skeins of flame-like (or perhaps truly flame) ripples twisting around its patina like multiple, intertwining, sinuous roots. Three moons – one medium, one small, and another gigantic – were spread apart throughout the sky, each occupying its own perfect third of sky, and each looming heavy and full, shadows littered and impossibly visible on their stone-grey surfaces, cold and ghastly, like death itself. They loomed frighteningly close, perhaps portents to a macabre demise for himself Piccolo mused.

Unknown enormous trees unendingly filled the vast horizons as far as a Namek's astute eyes could see. They were all thrice as big as the largest trees he had seen on Earth, or about twice as big as the trees on Namek. The color of the leaves was a strange violet mixed with red and green, the color of wood either black or extremely dark brown. Their shapes were like elongated, minimally wide oak trees.

But the most bothersome of all was the litany of shadows surrounding him, dancing, teasing, and motionless, physics defied.

And suddenly, a vision emerged like creeping mist in his mind.

Of a tower.

Impossibly high. As high as Kami's lookout or perhaps more. It was carved out of...

The image faltered.

A voice called.

"_Come."_

Attractive, seemingly benign, and honeyed.

Naturally, however, Piccolo was apprehensive, but hesitation gave way to realization that there was nothing else to do

He tried to fly, but to his incredulous shock, he could not. _Where the hell am I? _He never had felt so distressed. Confusion almost overwhelmed him, but he shackled it and descended down the mountain.

Like a normal human.

xx

Fleeting shadows ran through grass as Piccolo tore through foliage with his speed. All was a blur, the alien environment not possible to examine – Piccolo did not care and instead was comforted. Observation merely brought back the onus this world's celestial nature imposed on him. Its gargantuan trees, discombobulating gravity, tyrannizing air pressure, disorientating silence, and variegated blankets of shadows and darkness were the whips of a tyrant looking to conform him to the world. Piccolo resisted, recalcitrant, but the whips were so painful. It was difficult not to retract, conform, and forget about Earth – a world he had come to love, secretly and inconspicuously, but love nonetheless.

He continued to resist.

Suddenly, roars pierced the quiescence, stopping his drumming steps abruptly. The bestial roars, in close proximity, continued, hammering away at his eardrums. Lethargy consumed him like quicksand, unwilling to relinquish him.

He could not sense their ki because something about this world constrained his powers, yet he still felt the waves of energy resonating from the presumed plains two hundred heartbeats ahead – the trees to tall and thick to be able to have empirical evidence to surmise anything beyond a presumption.

The ground shook as he felt the creatures – or at least what he presumed to be creatures – tumble on dirt, their roars cacophonous, increasing, and deafening. Indecision reigned in the Namek's mind as he contemplated action. The power coming from the beasts was undeniably immense, almost encumbering to comprehend, even perhaps larger than his own power.

_Who am I kidding? They'd tear my head off and eat me up._

Perchance, stronger than a Super Saiyan.

_No, now that's overestimating them._

Screeches and then explosions filled the air; mountain chunks blasting up into the heavens, then falling like rebellious angels. Murky clouds of pumice now hung thick in the atmosphere. Trees audibly fell down. Dirt shot up into the air. Hot blue fire blasted into the already flame-skinned sky, creating a contrast of hot blue and lava red. The entire world shook, knocking Piccolo off his feet

_Kami, what is this? I retract my previous doubts. They're stronger than Gohan! This world is... insane. _

Something carried Piccolo forward. All his instincts were oppressed by the tyrant that was curiosity. He was walking in hopes of being a macabre witness of unimaginable powers. Walking to death, death those enigmatic claws easily could deliver.

He trudged ever mindlessly to witness.

To witness the inconceivable.

A wyval – onyx hided; eyes large and of perennially transmogrifying colors from green to red to stone; claws like mercury, soaked with blood, thick as two human thighs, and long as half a human leg; both wings extended, showing all of its frightening glory, and enormous size (ten human arm lengths each); its tail bulky and muscular, about fifteen arm lengths– was fighting with an immense lion-like animal – thrice as large as a normal lion, strangely grey in color, its mane black and its fur like cement, its eyes glistening like wet stones.

The Namek's eyes stung from the luminosity of the blue fire that the dragon breathed toward the lion. His ears screamed as the lion heaved its huge lungs and roared. His heart thumped and thumped.

To witness horrific powers.

Up until now, Piccolo had never been truly frightened. This appalling clash of powers, however, flooded his heart with terror and made him tremble with panic. Wave after wave of power radiating from the creatures of what he always believed to be mythos decomposed his mind, looking to steal it and destroy it.

To witness his own psychosis.

He needed to leave, to get away from this... _insanity. _

He ran, away and away, off to wherever, expediency his only guide, the tower no longer an objective.

The air was cloying with billowing smoke as he went further north. He came upon a river.

A river of perpetually blue lava. Vast, unending, and twisting far into the opaque distances. Noxious gases hung in the air, a malodorous smell, thick and fuming.

He ran away from the river.

Timelessness ebbed in the Namek's mind, seeping in like a snake's poison, first numbing him, then blurring his mind, and finally eating at his soul.

He ran away.

He ran far away from the river, as fast as he could. It was to no avail, the world was blurring more and more. The odor was like the sweet smell of a thousand burning corpses. The taste was like one's tongue meeting layers of ash. The noise was like chaotic oblivion.

This world was hostile in every way possible. This world was insanity personified. This world was inconceivable. This world was tyrannical. This world was autocratic. This world was heartless.

_This world is poison. _

Darkness consumed him, with a tang of derisive shadows.

--

[Two Weeks After Gohan's Disappearance]

A pair of lithe legs carried her through woods lightly with grace and deadliness. Running through torrents of verdant cloaks and piercing the infinite veils of opaqueness obsessively, her heart was beating stridently and her mind remained preciously blank. The value of a blank mind unmarred by fraught thoughts could not be overstated. These moments were thus indispensable.

She hadn't had the luck to be free of thoughts these days as questions led to more questions, another obsession led to another obsession. To discover the mysteries holding the school hostage occupied all her free time. The strange disappearance of Gohan – Dumbledore had said Gohan had wanted to leave the school but she didn't believe one word out of the old coot's mouth – was aggravating her. She needed to know. The bastard was winning, he had made her miserable with his disappearance. He had made her obsessive... but not now thankfully.

The springing of feet had purpose, meaning, and rationale. Still, looming at the back of her mind was the possibility of the pretense of her ingratiating, seductive pleasure.

Taking a deft left turn once she reached the last few trees, her slender, youthful body steadied itself for one moment, then perfectly on instinct began to run again, not wasting a nanosecond on steadying. Her ability was so precocious, like a thief of endless enigmatic years. Years that were fraught, were tiresome. Years that required an alleviator to pain, fatigue, and disorder. Years that were not physically present to her, but stalking like a beast in her mind.

What a tragedy.

Such years brought people of age to withdraw from the life that pained them perpetually, a life like the steady beating raindrops on the surface of a lake everyday. People withdrew and sought a solution. Everyone's solution was different, unique. Nonetheless, they were bound by one commonality.

There were solutions outside of the lake, the simplest and most rational of them all.

And there were solutions beneath the lake, beneath the pattering of rain drops. For these solutions, one needed to go down underneath the water.

And breathe.

How difficult such a feat was. Impossible in fact. Strange than that when one felt so distraught, so hopeless, that one looked to find comfort in the impossible, in that with no hope. Thus the latent contradiction that evaded those who sought comfort from trouble in such an erroneous manner.

But was it truly erroneous?

For the impossible became possible, the problems began to disappear, lungs became gilds, and the human breathed.

The water became not anathema, not a deathly burden that brought the pressure of dreary seas to crush the desperate person. The waters transformed to become a basic life-force, a luscious pleaser, an addicting drug.

These people living beneath the waters, living impossibly like the fish, all had such a drug for without it they thought they would die. This drug took various manifest forms, from methane to sex, from alcohol to violence, from pornography to isolation, from something as seemingly innocuous as reading to something as desperate as anorexia.

_Were is that beautiful oblivion? Were is that invaluable blankness? Now I am fraught with my innate morality! Questioning my own excursions, what is the point of that? Morals, all they are are pointless weights weighing us down. _

_Oh but I war with myself. War with what I am doing. But what can I do now? I am beneath the lake, all the way down in its dark, precipitous depths. I am forever trapped and irretrievable. The pressure of the sea is overwhelming, and paradoxically I need more and more water, more of my drug. Wait, since I think morals are needless weights pushing us down, have I drowned into dejectedness because of my morals? _

She ran without ceasing.

_No. It is so clear. Morals did not send me down to these dreary depths. This drug, I've gone down farther into darkness to appease my needs because only going down can I find more of my drug. But this is such a paradox! This gradual dissent all the way to the bottom of the lake. _

_One goes beneath the lake seeking a solution, an aegis from a pain-filled, or embarrassed-ridden, or despair-molded life. The first paradox. One looks to leave the seemingly impossible life outside of the lake to find a new life, an impossible life, a life beneath the waters. Amazingly, the waters become a life-force and thus one's insatiable desire. It brings pleasure and we need more. At the time we submerge into the waters, we are either questing for a new life of hopeful light or soothing darkness. Such distinctions matter not as the drug forces us ever down into the horrifying depths of darkness and onus. The second paradox. We feel pain and pleasure. The third paradox._

_We descend down more and more until we reach the floor. The water pressure is now too overwhelming, our gills suddenly disappear, and our lungs are revealed. Everything was an illusion. Nature was pulling a trick on us, an impossibly difficult finagle as well. For what fool would think he or she could live forever submerged in water? What degree of idiocy is required to form such delusional veils? Be not mistaken, this is not nature's trick however. This is the mind's trick, the mind's veil, the mind's delusion._

_Thus we die. Not a heroic death, not a sweet death, but a vain death after living a pointless life descending down and down into darkness. Thus the fourth paradox, there is no point in looking to live such a life with such a terrible demise as one seeks to escape pain. _

Videl stopped at the window of a small, yet opulent house.

_I am a fool and I am tragedy that can never be redeemed._

She went to work unlocking the charmed window.

To steal. To raze.

-- 

Broken wagons rolled on toward a desolate expanse of tawny brown and light blue, smudges of white marking the horizon. Hopeless murmurs, cries of wretchedness, and despondent growls from mules merged with the emotionless drumming of footsteps, flaring rays of sunlight, and the groan of winds; eating at the slaves' skin, burning and smoldering it into long abrasions and thick, puss filled blisters. Stripping them of humanity, of their flesh, of what separated them from being merely indifferent, skeletal, cold bone.

How hope so needed to emerge. Anything to remove the deathly miasma, a concoction of both the palpable and intangible, looming horribly above them.

Beautiful and majestic, a precursor of the concept of hope emerged from the blurry dirt filled distance. Like a towering giant, but conversely a flat lake, it rose out onto the horizon with strength, a foundation for self-belief. Like an unshakable pillar, a tenet of self-confidence. Like a messenger of help, an instiller of self-assurance.

Like so many of the distraught and ailing, like so many of those plagued by lassitude, disenchantment, and trauma, these slaves saw a beautiful lake in a world of cold heat. Haste took hold in the hopeless people, impatient, keen, and eager as they quickly walked to meet what they believed to be salvation. A belief completely dependent on the premise that physicality was an unassailable veracity, a universal truth that no one, nothing, no god could destroy.

Melissa was not convinced by what she saw plainly in front of her. Physicality had proven wrong so many times in her life. She had been lied to by her senses. Senses were merely pragmatic no matter how desultory and dire the situation. They fashioned their own reality, what they wanted to see in order to prevent further pain. But the senses' reasoning was dangerous, flawed. For looking to deviate the mind from actuality, it looked to delay pain. The inevitable pain. And once it had to arrive and strike, it hit with the force of thousands of mountains capriciously collapsing, crushing oneself.

And she was also not convinced by the senses not acknowledging this flaw.

_Are thus the senses just stupid and the most self-delusion things in existence, or the most cruel, sanctimonious, patronizing assholes in the universe? Personally, my ignorant, misguided self chooses the latter. Oh five years before, as a young teenager just before this terrible mission, a mission that I have yet to come to understand at all, I would have foolishly chosen the former. After all, they were the facilitators of my pleasure, the harbingers of my knowledge, the tools for my survival, the swords ripping the veil masking truth. How could I question such a knight of justice, such a perfect, Platonic king?_

_I could not at the time. Hence my offering of my soul to my senses. I gave myself away to this perfect king, even gave it the leash to hold me in place so I wouldn't flee from terrors as it whispered soothing, mitigating, fictitious words into my craving ears; even gave it the whip to flail my skin whenever my heart meant to guide me; gave it the gold, diamond jeweled crown recognizing that everything else in my body was subordinate and much less substantial to the creator of substance, the elevator of purpose. I had blindly believed that this king was benign and infallible. Tersely put, my senses were my god, the maker of my world._

_Oh, but the benignity, a Machiavellian tool for delusional praise, the soothing words, a means to appease its selfish desires, the infallibility, a silk garment looking to establish a pretense of credibility. No, this king is not good, this king is not justice, this king is not my king anymore. _

_Autocratic, merciless, shameless is this king. _

_I know what this king is besides those condemning words, however. This king is consistent. When everything is swell and beautiful, the king is good for it is practical. But when the skies are turned upside down and darkness is revealed, the king is cruel for it is once again practical. The king provides illusions of hope to appease our disillusionment, to exculpate him from the despise that our suffering creates. And we, the asinine and jejune slaves, WE snap at the luscious, fattening, poisonous piece of meat his hand jestingly wags, WE rip the meat from his hands ferociously like beasts, WE sink our teeth hungrily in without a second thought of reality, of the poison seeped in the blood from the meat now flowing through our veins. Oh and how he giggles at us._

_Ah, the counterargument now comes up. Why would this king, a synergy of the senses, provide transitory illusions if they will, certainly, dissipate? Since he looks not to be disdained for he is the paradigm of self-conceit, why should he look to take such a risky chance act? For once reality is revealed and a person realizes that the senses have failed, that person will have inexorable disdain for his or her king. _

_Remember that this king is cruel is my rebuttal._

_Remember those crushing mountains._

_Remember the slab of poisonous meat._

_Remember this, and that is all you need. _

_This is all any fool needs to understand; any prostitute feeling the rushes of pleasure during saturnalian nights and the holes of complete oblivion in the soul that no amount of pleasure can mitigate during the day; any connoisseur of fine wine who differentiates paltry wines' myriad subtleties with maximum pleasure and returns to a home devoid of any palatable taste, any meaning; any astute thief who rushes through the curtains of shadow and darkness with exhilaration, stealing the life energies of another (for objects that are bought represent the work and thus the energy of oneself) and when night dies finds the light to be distressingly dull, paradoxically and ironically dark; any fool can understand! Any murderer, any teacher, any drunk, any writer, any philosopher, any alien! They all can understand! All these fools can understand for it is latent._

_That disdain will not emerge from our newfound despair, that collective vengeance will not assail the king with the power of billions of maundering souls. _

_For we are one and all __**fools**__._

_For we are crushed one and all by __**mountains.**_

_For we are poisoned one and all by __**meat.**_

_For we are one and all expertly __**betrayed.**_

_For this is the __**Betrayer King.**_

--

[One Week Earlier]

Sunlight sneaked out from the horizon, battling against the empowered darkness. The irony of it all was that sunlight was fighting itself since darkness was not self-productive nor did another entity create it. Darkness was the condition of the non-existence of light. As the sun steadily set, it created the very condition it sought to overcome.

It was no one else's fault...

The snow had hitherto not come as if a belated messenger had yet to give the pure pleasantry the arctic letter from Mother Nature. Frost and haze were teeming, the trees were ghastly grim as its leaves were dead, and the waters were unmoving, too gelid for most creatures. All the wintry archetypes were in place except the pureness of snow. The remover of the harsh lifelessness that winter could create and the harbinger of death itself whenever it grew unruly, was nowhere. This winter was a lackluster imitator thus far.

Something was awry.

Stoic silence epitomized the morose microcosm encompassing Andres and Luna. Half an hour ago, Dumbledore had told them that Gohan had on his own chose to leave the magical world, and thus he would no longer attend Hogwarts. Shock sent them reeling. Their minds halted, and that which was latent had not been noticed until this moment, when Andres broke quiescence.

As they mindlessly walked through sparse, dull grass.

"Bullshit."

Luna raised heavy eyes toward Andres. "As miserable, gloomy, and wretched as I currently am Andres – amazing isn't it that only having known Gohan for a month could create such strong emotions; then again, he is a fascinating person – I still will chastise you for such a use of inappropriate vocabulary for absolutely no particular basis."

Andres gloomily half-smiled at her. "Pardon my temerity, please feel assuaged by regret."

A half-hearted smile responded. "I will not castigate you, you are exculpated."

"Outlandish that Gohan, you, and I take pleasure in using fustian vocabulary whenever overwhelmingly depressed. Perhaps it isn't much a surprise considering how uselessly erudite we all are because of our parents – my mom and dad, obsessive Curse Breakers who have just as obsessively made me read for hours a day on wide variety of subjects, your dad who taught you the art of journalism (from clever play on words to varying tones), and Gohan's mom who, from what he's told me, is... plain hell when it comes to studying."

Luna giggled. "Are you sure Gohan wasn't just being his ephemeral melodramatic self?"

The Spanish boy shook his head. "Nah, he even told me that she had wanted to name him Einstein."

Luna appeared perplexed and thoughtful. "But there's hardly any similarity. Yes, they are both geniuses, but Einstein is more eccentric and frizzy. Gohan is intimately calm, charismatic (when he wants to be), and appearance-wise, he's a handsome boy."

An amused, intrigued, and excited smirk formed on a Spanish face. "Are you sure you don't mean... sexy?"

Luna regarded him, puzzled. "Sexy? I don't understand your connotation Andres. I know 'sex' is interchangeable with the word 'gender'. But why would I consider Gohan feminine?"

A smirk died down into thwarted frustration. "How about, hot?"

"More like warm. I remember that time Gohan hugged me, he felt very warm." Andres rolled his eyes. "A hubbysmacker got your eye?"

_I've had enough of this path of conversation. Luna is just too innocent for __Señor __Anacleto's sake! Teasing isn't possible because she won't understand that I'm teasing her! I mean, we're already eleven! Then again... the age eleven... _"This is impertinent Luna."

"Impertinent indeed to what truly lies lumbering in our minds. Are we not merely digressing from a major problem? Wasn't it supercilious of us to get side-tracked? Isn't the problem why you merited the use of such an inappropriate word?"

"Yes, yes, and yes – I've learned to answer all the multiple questions you tend to throw at me by the way– I agree with you. So I'll get us on track."

"Splendid."

"Indeed. Well, where were we? Oh yes... bullshit."

"Enlightening. Now, what is it that warrants such a word?"

"It's obvious isn't it? Dumbledore's lie! Gohan's voluntarily leaving Hogwarts! A lie can't get lamer than that!"

Luna's eyes were strangely dark. "Dumbledore might be telling the truth."

"He isn't Luna; I'm the master of deciphering fib from reality. After all, who knows a liar better than a liar?"

"Several people. The liar's friends, relatives, dogs, cats –"

Andres shook his head, incredulous. "No Luna! Who can tell that a liar is lying the best?"

Luna glanced at the ever darkening for no apparent reason. "His or her's mother." Andres groaned. Luna eyed him. "Is something besides Gohan's disappearance distressing you?"

_Yes. How uselessly loquacious this conversation is. _"No Luna."

"Then shame on you Andres. Don't you realize how uselessly loquacious this conversation is?"

_... yes..._

"That the Wrackspurts are fulfilling there terrible goal of straying our attention from the enigma that is Gohan's disappearance to less paramount matters?"

_...no... at least the Wrackspurt part..._

"Are you not going to answer me Andres? Because I think communication would be the best foundation to examine the problem that is Gohan's disappearance."

"Yes Luna. I agree with you."

"Very well then." Luna halted at the lake, staring into it, suddenly awe-struck now more than ever about the shimmering water as bright diamonds – which reflected in Luna's eyes. Subsequently, she reminisced about Gohan and sanguinity began to take root in her mind. How he had first led her to this abscond, magnificent lake. How he had shown her that hope could not be lost when one witnessed such beauty. How he had told her its name, _"The Lake of Dreams". _ She motioned to Andres to sit down and he agreed. There was something, beyond good memories and the lake's splendor, nudging her to witness...

"So why do you know a liar better – "

"Let's just drop that part. Time is vital."

"Of course."

"Now onto more probing questions like..." Andres paused, Luna regarded. Dramatic anticipation for a possibly promising and enlightening moment burgeoned. "What _really _happened to Gohan?"

Andres crushed dramatic anticipation. The wind groaned. Luna eyed him, ashamed. "Have you never heard of induction Andres? I'm sure it would suit this particular decrepit moment. My hope is already beginning to waver, amazingly. Such a ludicrous, almost depressing question."

"What?"

"Wisdom continues to evade you like a wily fox facetiously toying with a clumsy bear."

Andres scowled and nothing more was said for moments. The Spanish boy searched his mind for answers but came up bitterly empty.

Nothing was as it appeared.

"_Take nothing at face value. Take nothing as truth without inspection. Glean nothing from the impractical. Glean nothing from the intangible. For if you don't, disillusionment will blind your eyes with deceiving pulchritude and aesthetics. And when you discover such deceit, you will be __**crushed**__." Such ingenious from dad. What a brilliant, informative statement. Now if only I could understand it... and why the hell am I thinking of this? Impertinent, isn't it so?_

His eyes darted to Luna and noticed her concentration fixed onto the lake. "What are you doing Luna? Thinking?"

Luna did not break her studious gaze. "At times when a sharp mind is sorely missing –" Andres huffed. "I look at nature for wisdom. The synergy of beauty, grace, and rationale that permeates from nature supersedes the heart of not just human wisdom, but _all other _wisdom, even that beyond human's grasp. Thus, what better source of ideas and comprehension than nature itself?"

Andres eyes darted to the trees, the sun, and the lake, wearily for reason that he could not grasp. _I was never a nature guy I guess. Yah, that must be it._

Luna's grey eyes captured the impracticable sight of a bright yellow flower, lying artfully on the raw-cold grass. She gasped and picked it up, her hope brightening once again. "A narcissus sylvestris! Well, at least that is its scientific name. It is more commonly known as a daffodil common. Father told me about this flower. He said that it symbolized a type of hope. I don't remember which, but I know it's a type of hope." Luna smiled again, placing the flower onto her ear.

A living flower in a deathly wintry world? Andres felt strange, as if admonitions were glued to the air, warning him. _To leave. But why? Everything is so... idyllic. Dad? No, this all a coincidence. Life's full of coincidences._

Suddenly, Luna thought she saw a ball of light from underneath the docile waters, on the north side of the lake – bright, cerulean, and dream-like. Warmth rushed through her at the sight. Not just to and through her heart, but also to her pale skin. Pricking and plucking at her needle-straight hairs. Warming and wandering over her rainbow-striped, nature-filled, smiley-faced sweatshirt. It had to be real. Who could deny the reality of physicality after all?

"Andres! I saw a spell from underneath the lake, over there! Just like the spells Gohan does!" Pure diamonds shined in Luna's eyes.

"Really?" Wariness gave way to hope.

"Yes, let's go!" They rushed over to the other side of the lake, expectation wrapping around their hearts, layer upon layer of seemingly impossibly obstinate certainness. Waiting before the lake, their shadows lay on the waters, darkening them.

Certainness gently gave way.

"Are you sure you saw something Luna?"

Luna's gaze faltered, and her eyes grew watery. The lake still shined. "Yes... expectation must be met. It's all around."

They waited for moments in which time was non-existent. The most fundamental element of all existence was unaccountable to their minds, intransigent to their location, as they waited and waited for that which they expected to come. _More accurately what we hope will come. _

And then, underneath their shadowy figures, a single poppy rose out from the lake, in perfect condition, blood-red. Its perfection mocked them for their innocence.

The wind then howled and ripped away the daffodil from Luna's ears. It floated, floated like an angel down from the heavens, with beauty, grace, and rationale, until it rested on top of the poppy. A moment later, wind picked up and grasped the flowers, sending them off to the west where sunsets died. The wind was laughing and the flowers teasing. They flew and flew, until they were gone, accomplished.

Diamonds turned to dust, eyes dulled, and hope was crushed, sent down into the cerulean waters of dreams.

Endless, dark, merciless depths of self-delusion.

Dreams of the beautiful past. _And much less than what it appears... an illusion... a cruel one... at that. Is this reality? No, it cannot be..._

_Oh father, now I see. Now I see. Luna..._

Tears ceaselessly dripped into the ravenous Lake of Dreams.

For she was crushed.


	12. Childhood's Ashes

**Try your best not to be put off by my FAIL attempt at a dialect. Obviously, based on what Chi-Chi says, the guy has a few problems. Based on what you read, you should be able to tell what type of problems he has. They're not external. By the way, I might continue typing more chapters. I do have the entire story (which is really long) abstractly in my mind. Whether I do put ideas into words is another issue, especially since I'm starting another story that's not fanfiction but completely made up by me. And I'd like to move away from the serious mood soon. **

_It goes through skies to flutter, rising ash_

_And turning here and nigh, blue canvas wry_

_A life not here, a life forsaken, gnashed_

_Her smile: none; her eyes: dim, ignorant dye_

_-_ Albus Dumbledore

"Childhood's Ashes"

Hogwarts Library Section 1000-1500: Poems

_--_

_If only it were as such: an atypical day in a little girl's life; her mother and father conversing in soft tones of affection, love strong and unbreakable; wisps of vanilla floating off the chef's latest breakfast sensation; eyes vagabond and dreamy as the trees brandished their rough brown arms and birds chirped velvet wrapped notes. If only it were so now and forever, and not one hour or two. _

_Rising from her soft plush bed, Videl turned off her alarm clock, a baby orange cat with its paws up stretched in the air and its long curling tail wrapped playfully around its sternum. Rubbing her tired eyes until they shined afresh—last night she had been with her parents at the West City Festival of Technology—she hopped off her bed and went to her bathroom._

_After her hair gleamed like black diamonds and her body emitted a scent of mint evergreens and cinnamon wafts, she walked two floors down the spiraling staircase through warm buoyant memories floating like bubbles, each one in its own world of love. All the while, excitedly musing over the events to come, she was lowering her sapphire eyes to look for her dad. The World Martial Arts Tournament began today, Sunday. Her father would attempt to defend his black belt of gold, rubies, and invaluable prestige. Now ten, Videl would for the first time see her father fight (he had always attempted to keep her away from fighting because she was too young and when Videl had proclaimed to her father her intentions of becoming a world-renowned fighter like him one day, he sternly reprimanded her, albeit with the loving concern of a father). For Videl, there was one outcome: her dad would win; anything else was inconceivable. Such was a child's assurance, the blissful magenta coloring of life._

Yes, he would win, and Videl and her mother would cheer for him for each fight, for each strike, for each victory, for each grunt and spurt of blood. They would cheer for him to the end, even after their voices became strained and throaty, warped like a broken string. She was so sure, so sure about a perfect day. Walking down those long stairs, lowering her sparkling eyes to search for her father, for the perfect day, her best day; but instead she saw an old reflection, eyes filled by a strange, welling blue... 

_--_

White skies overhead washed pure by yesterday's rain and crested with the occasional floating passerby that was a feathery cloud harkened to the innocent heart. A romantic image of strength, inspiration, and equanimity; an image impelling the natural idealist to conjure observations about spontaneity's beauty: ankle-height golden grass rolling with the caressing hand of wind, ocher leaves puffing around the still air lightheartedly, birds bursting through withering trees with unadulterated purpose. The pureness a Romantic yearned was here and it was this: a child's environment leading to uninhibited 'natural' development. Away from the corrupting mechanics of a city, this picturesque setting was the aegis keeping flowing blood from becoming liquid steel.

And yes, perfectly placed for this image, a girl lying sprawled on the grass, her hand with a flower—a suitable deception. Autumn ought to have begun to fade away, slowly abjure its claim on Mother Nature along with its set of aesthetics; thus far, it remained adamant, unmoving—unnaturally. Distance skewed reality, for when one walked toward the girl one saw a gaze as fastidious as any connoisseur's and as heated as the attrition of jagged rock on steel on the twirling of a yellow flower by a black gloved hand. A sigh as the hours of fervent study were let loose, a day was exhaled, and life once again jested at the simplicity she had lost.

Barely eleven, and she had already begun to imagine grey-streaked hair, begun to feel a presentiment of the dissolution of her own sanity as if some crippling mental infirmity had begun to blossom in its own cursed way. She, laconically put, felt old, light years away from the innocent world of childhood. For that, she felt like crying, for she had lost the phase of ignorant beatitude. The beautiful brightness typifying every day, regardless of gloom, had disappeared, being replaced by the miserable and endless dragging of time onward, forward, forever. This was her greatest fear: the lack of flux, the resistance to change, a depressingly subdued vicissitude in her life. She held no illusions, for she recognized to whom life was arbitrarily cruel and to whom life was disgustingly obsequious and to whom life did not meddle with. This made it impossible to restore the phase she now saw as a state of emotional superfluity.

No illusions. _At least I have that. _

She twirled the yellow flower, its blossom blending with the golden glass harmoniously, her eyes growing sentimental, the gentle budding of hope, like the lively efflorescence of this beautiful flower. Eyes wan from the splitting of her bliss—true childhood—by time now began to shimmer, defiance weakening, cynicism giving way to the beauty of hope in change, in all its constituent pieces, everything coming together like the gentle melding of lustrous metals.

No, as if her heart chose to economize her hope for another time when a stipend needed to be repaid; yet, her heart was pennilessness. A sickening lurch of her heart and she knew she was incapable of renewal.

A twirling of a flower and then no more.

Green fibers torn, the flower now dead, the smooth and nimble hands of an eleven-year-old girl ruthlessly had torn the various masks of lifeless hope away.

Disgust rooted in her eyes, she broke recumbence and glared at the white skies above her, now a redoubtable wall blocking her from the world she desperately longed. Desultorily, she chose to stop trying, giving her final adieu to childhood, now, officially, a wave as casual as one to an acquaintance of no particular emotional affinity.

And so again, she began to punish herself by attempting to understand the incomprehensible: Gohan. _But why? If I don't give a damn about life, why do I care? _

A tender susurration of blood like an elongated gust of wind, a gentle beat in her chest in a heartbeat of time, she abruptly pointed her eyes downward, anger's fangs sinking deep, its poison writhing throughout her body. _Ridiculous: this mocking whisper of blood. _

--

The day after Gohan's disappearance was as ritualistic as ever, besides the countless rumors swirling around the various gregarious circles throughout Hogwarts. Of course, she cared little for these rumors, never paying attention to the innumerable falsehoods and calumnies they promulgated, often times ostentatiously. Unfortunately, her two friends beside her typically associated themselves with these groups for reasons that made her roll her eyes.

_Juicy gossip, latest fashion, biggest biceps... and we're only eleven. If they're unbearable now, then... oh God. _

Her eyes eased a little.

"What?"

"Oh Sharpener, come on!"

"You got to be kidding me!"

A huff and a blue-eyed glare. "And why should I be kidding?"

Videl, torn away from another one of her internal and ironically overt (Sharpener and Erasa knew what she was thinking) debates over the mysterious disappearance of Gohan, shifted her feet to turn—she had been walking ahead of them briskly—then look at her friends.

"Harry Potter?"

Erasa let out a tiny squeal and a small smile appeared on her face. "Yup yup! He's so cute! Not exactly the super hot type, but more like the oh so adorable type!"

Videl, bemused, saw a murky mix of shock and disappointment in Sharpener's eyes.

_Why are we thinking about dating at our age? Isn't that rather... inappropriate? Wait, we? No, I mean why are they? _

"But, but..." A helpless look of defeat filled Sharpener's eyes and a tiny pout grew, like a baby's mother leaving to for work. Videl giggled, muffling it with her gloves, not wanting her friends to see her rare moment of happiness for a reason unknown to her.

_As if I always want to be in constant despair. As if I feel I deserve it. _She sighed morosely, but then studied Sharpener again. _I almost want to let a few tears roll down my cheeks for him—almost, and just because of how damn funny he looks. I'm just not sure why he's angry though. Maybe he thinks Harry won't give Erasa a chance._

"He's a... little weak shrimp!" he announced, gazing at the white, cloudless heavens above, throwing up his arms in fervent glee, as if he had made a grand, revolutionary discovery.

"What's my favorite food Sharpener?"

"Suntory beer?"

_Shrimp you idiot _Videl thought then gawked.

Erasa turned to Videl. Erasa slowly walked up to her. "He's even stupider than I thought," she whispered into her ear. Another giggle, and this time, audible. Erasa beamed at Videl. "Yay!"

"Awesome, Videl! You laughed. That's a relief, I though you'd get a stroke from stress. So what was so funny?"

Videl smirked at Sharpener. "Oh nothing Sharpener, nothing."

"Hey, tell me! I've seen that smirk on your face a million times!"

"Then if you weren't so stupid, you'd have a sense of why I'm laughing. I mean, how haven't you know noticed who's typically the butt of the jokes, the donkey of idiocy, the cow of brutishness?"

Sharpener pouted. "Viddddeeel... I'm more than just a brawny you-know-what." Erasa audibly snorted. "At least I'm not some ditzy blonde."

"You're blonde too!" Erasa retorted.

"Yah, but I'm not ditzy."

"You are rather ditzy Erasa."

"Hmm. I am just merely audacious from showing sumptuous galleries of my fine-looking, lush, womanly bottom circumference," Erasa professionally stated.

Sharpener scratched his head, and then burst out laughing. Videl slapped her own face. "Erasa, please don't ever again try to sound smart. Uhh, the word choice for what you meant to say was... off. Being smart is just not for you."

"Then what did I say?"

"Erasa is a slut!"

"Hey! No I'm not!"

_I'm actually surprised Sharpener could figure out what Erasa really said. And what's a slut? _

"So Erasa, are you going to make the four eyed scar head drool over you with that luscious, womanly circumference?"

"Videl! What's does he mean?"

"I don't know what a slut means!"

"I don't either, but what does what he said before he said _slut _mean?"

"Erasa and Harry sitting in a tree, g-r-o-p-i-n-g!" Sharpener teased melodically, running around Erasa with his tongue sticking out.

"Wow Sharpener, you're even more immature than I though!" Videl remarked while Erasa clenched her fists and stood planted fiercely on the ground.

Sharpener stopped, smirked, and huffed. "You're just uptight Videl."

"I'm not uptight!"

Erasa's eyes calmed. "He does have a point."

Videl reaffirmed herself. "And who are you to insult both of us anyway, Sharpener? We all know we can make you cry. You wouldn't dare tease us again."

"Oh really? Videl, Erasa, and Harry sitting in a tree, g-r-o-p-i-n—holy shit!"

Dirt muffled his words. His face had been thrust into the ground with the force of a thousand Amazon women. The perpetrator was not exactly exotic, tan, and tall, however. It was just Erasa. Videl gawked.

_That was unexpected, but deserved. Gross, Erasa and I? Groping (whatever that is...)! Disgusting. A new low for Sharpener. _

"Erasa! You promised me after rubbing my face with Mr. Ha's undies that you would never punish me like that!"

Eyes shot wide in disgust, Videl roiled backward, capitulated, and blinked. _The poor thing...having to endure the old man's sweaty underwear. Not even Sharpener deserves such a wretched reprimand. I wonder if that was in third or fourth grade. _Videl switched her gaze to Erasa. _And my oh my, Erasa is pure evil. Well, I've always known that, the blonde witch (no not bitch). _Videl couldn't help but snicker.

"I'm so happy that you're happy again!" Erasa's cheery voice exclaimed.

_A sickeningly jovial blonde witch. _

xx

After a large breakfast—her eating habits had been dangerously sporadic hitherto—the Slytherins went to Transfiguration. As usual, everything was well enough academically. As always, today's class was summarized by the usual prosaic string of theory after theory rolled off Professor McGonagall's aged tongue, a tongue used almost exclusively for berating and teaching. As Andres had once so cleverly said to the entire class when it had a substitute: "A tongue abusing is a tongue with purple nurples that can't get French. Who wants a slithering snake down his or her throat anyway?" Also as usual, Videl easily comprehended and applied the subject, a rare proud smile from Professor McGonagall sometimes her reward. Moreover, as usual, Erasa managed to apply said concept well enough to earn an _E_, a passing grade that Professor McGonagall warned her students would drop down a letter each subsequent year if the quality of work remained stifled. And also, as always, Sharpener failed miserably up until the moment he either read his textbook, Videl's notes, or examined Erasa's beautiful pictures—that moment came when Videl violently admonished him (she knew he had talent—shocking, she knew—but he was too lazy).

Academically, today was typical, but it lacked two ebullient minds. The classroom was almost penurious; it was as if vividness and wittiness had disappeared, as if Dark Age art covered Baroque. Videl disliked this. If anything, merely disliking his disappearance increased her discontent. No Gohan for one day, immediately—despite the relaxing breakfast with her two friends—was already abrading her countenance, his disappearance snarling and jumbling her mind like ropes tangling with more ropes. Andres's response (skipping class) also carried obvious repercussions for the rest of the class. Despite whatever the other Slytherins said, and even, she grudgingly admitted, what she had always vigorously reiterated, they were the stars on the dreary tapestry. They alleviated the classical night on the canvas: a proud, sinister, and shady presupposed background each Slytherin painted with because of his or her 'pure' blood. Whether any of the Slytherins had anything but an unconscious grasp of Gohan and Andres's role was another mystery.

Now walking to their next class, she caught Sharpener and Erasa looking at each other, weighting up a decision. A flash in Sharpener's eyes, and Videl knew they had agreed.

"Uhh, Videl, we have to talk to you about something," Sharpener paused and glanced at Erasa.

Erasa rolled her eyes, clearly frustrated. "What Sharpener was supposed to say before his balls dropped—" Sharpener eyes widened, humiliated, "is we know Gohan's, the jerk, disappearance will make you try to figure things out... for a long long time. And we know it will happen, we can't stop it, you just have to obsess over a mystery until you've found out what's happening. So, we just want to tell you to try to stay healthy and we'll be with you through and through. If you ever need help or if you're ever going to do something stupid—" Erasa's voice squeaked a bit with nervousness, "then talk to us because we want you to be as safe as it's possible for a person like you."

Stunned, Videl attempted to absorb the announcement. Yes, they had been her friends for several years, but the straight talk and steadfast commitment was unprecedented. Her eyes warmed, her emotions were close to spilling out and falling on the incongruent stone. _Perhaps I don't really have to do everything alone. _A quiver of her heart, like the plucking of a harp, quickly was subdued by whispering blood. She couldn't risk their lives to protect her. Using their friendship as a reason was unjustified; they were her friends too, she had to protect them! _But they won't agree with me. _A hurried search of her mind for an answer and she suddenly rested on a lie. "Ok, it's fine."

This took them aback. An unsure smile on each face, Sharpener and Erasa continued walking with Videl.

xx

Defense Against the Dark Arts with the Ravenclaws felt just as empty, but no one commented. Surprisingly, what had intensified this feeling was the absence of Luna, someone whom Videl often blankly and sometimes banteringly regarded.

The rest of class remained despairingly dull, time ticking away torturously slow. Finally, the bell rang and they all left for lunch.

Outside class, Videl began speaking: "You guys said you wanted to help me. Well, I have an idea. We have to follow all leads, absurd and realistic, to figure this out as soon as possible. I know, maybe Son will come back tomorrow, but we need to know what he did and where he is, even if he doesn't come back. During today's and tomorrow's lunch, we'll be collecting rumors and tonight and tomorrow night we will try to piece them together."

xx

Day's life contracting, night's breath lengthening, and three pairs of eyes staring at one another in consternation. Outside, stars emerging, growing, slowly transforming from wraithlike bobbing apples to defined outlets radiating light.

"You, there! What do you think you're doing trying to avoid me? Get back here and tell me what you know." A ridiculous story.

Moving around frustrated, Videl and her two friends cornered all who claimed to have forbidden knowledge, including those who had claimed and now backed down after hearing the rumors of Videl's ruthless interrogative methods.

Classes had just ended, and they had been stopping many. Of those who complied, several gave her toadying gazes like dogs roiling restlessly seeking to gain their masters' attention. The result was an unconcealed snort and swarming disgust from and within Videl, her eyes flames of determination and her face cold as sleet.

They made minimal progress and eventually it was dinner. Dinner was tense; what always were jovial eyes now had an edged cut, a natural defense toward mysterious possibility. More disconcerting, Dumbledore's seat remained unoccupied, murky darkness clawing with grimy strength around its area. Her friends heard a lamenting groan escape her mouth. Their boredom signaled their regret over the promise. Despair fell into a pit, anger rose, and her cheeks seemed to swell as if a wasp had stung them; the listless became the guilty. Enduring the thousand daggers of absurdity was difficult she realized. They were right to be jaded.

As she chewed her pork chop, her palette sensing little flavor, she saw Urquhart, whose name was all she knew, gaining a crowd of eager first, second, and third years. They, a malicious and avid glint in each eye, all clamored and yapped with zeal. She nudged her friends on their sides then pointed at the scene subtly. They each gave her a look, unsure and quiet.

"Are you guys going with me there?"

"Yah, ok," Erasa said unsteadily while Sharpener nodded his head. They got out of their seats and walked toward the group.

"And so be brave fellow Slytherins, for Gohan Son shall return when the precise opportunity arises, for he is cunning and clever as the Heir of Slytherin must be. With Son guiding us to resurrect Voldemort, we shall be the generation that hastens the final era of earth, the era of Voldemort."

Chilling words undeniably, but she took them with a grain of salt for now. If only she had heard the first few minutes of his speech.

"But Urquhart, how can he be the Heir of Slytherin if he's a mudblood?" That word was unknown to Videl.

"Worry not, for he has taken such an unwarranted status to conceal his actual pureblood lineage. My possible allies, you are dismissed. A week from tonight, in the Forbidden Forest at midnight will be our next meeting and the confirmation of membership." He leered at the Slytherins who put on a guise of fear. "Yes, the location ensures the bravery of my members. Why would Voldemort want a paltry group of cowards?"

As the Slytherins trickled back to their seats (Professor McGonagall had told Snape to dispel the crowd around Urquhart) Videl moved toward Urquhart.

Mudblood? Pureblood? She wasn't sure what he meant. Of course, she understood the former term was positive and the latter term was negative, his tonal inflections signaling these connotations. Notwithstanding, she walked up to him with her typical determined step, Sharpener and Erasa trailing her a few feet away, toward Urquhart_. _Eating chicken and mashed potatoes while confabulating with Vaisey, he then flicked his regard toward her. An iris of molten steel, a retracting pupil, a sclera murky like ash in white seas, eyes that served as an amusement for Videl at best. "You're knowledgeable of Son, aren't you?"

Interest sparked, he nodded then grinned. "Well hello Ms. Satan, what can I do for you on this wonderful epoch of a night?"

She felt like strangling him, the veneration in his eyes belied enmity. "Cut the small talk out, Uruqhart. I know you don't give two shits about me." Shock in young eyes, but then a frightening coldness overcame their astonishment. His comrade was beside him smirking maliciously. These kids couldn't be the age they appeared. If they were, the world was cruel. She mentally snorted: _Just look at me!_

"Videl," he smugly began, "I'm surprised you take me as one of pretense. Perhaps it was how I examined your lovely face?" Lips curled with delight at her feral grunt

_Another freak that at eleven already fantasizes about girl. What a sick—. _

"But yes, I understand your impatience, for you are one of laconic directness. You take the shortest path to a goal, for time is of utmost import, yes? I take your silence as tacit acquiescence. To facilitate the alleviation of your ever festering frustration with me, I will simply say to you, _yes, I do have secret knowledge about him and now, ask ahead_."

She felt like slicing those curled lips to bits, the damn chutzpah irritating her beyond measure.

"Where is he? Why'd he leave? When will he—"

"Ah, so many questions fired at my direction. Yes, the powerful art of directness is one of your faculties. Unfortunately, I have already explained it to my other possible group members. If you would like to hear it from me again, ask me tomorrow at breakfast, for tonight I am busy rejoicing, for this is a monumental period in the grand scope of history: the beginning of a new age that Gohan Son and _I _shall lead."

She felt like breaking his face into crimson-stained shards, letting his cold blood flow on flagstones. A tender sound whispering deep within her mind urged her.

"And Videl, you can be third in command if you wish. I encourage you to take the position since our group could use a girl like you. Not only are you the daughters of the Savior of earth, but you're also a girl with wiles and beauty, a _deadly _combination."

Two hands squeezed her shoulder tight, tellers of their owners' anxiety and disapproval. "No."

"So be it." Too calm, too cold, too restrained for a child.

Bards and poets have sung about the puerile fire of youth, whether it lies flaring within the heart of a man still in the phase of emotional fatuity or in a teenager acting out of egregious impulse; nevertheless, both still bring upon a chaos with the taste of inferno. Yet, where are the singers and poets describing the vapid regard of a child, the dead eyes of a youth, the icy thickness of his or her guise as a general truth of the young? Where are they? Do tell where these rebellious artists are, describing the raw depth of humanity without a flicker of remorse, a cry of frightened disgust, a shamed glance at one's dreadful work of cynicism. Where are they?

Where are they?

--

Tides of heat rose and fell over the desert like melting wax. Stirring awake in old pale tents, people began to shout and laugh, work and play. The earth churned around, dragging the sun up into the violet-ridged sky, the horizon a dark orange hue as rays glimmered like writhing tentacles. The light night breeze began to die down, a grip of fire replacing it. Endless slopes of sand ranged ahead, an environment unbound by the arbiters of weather. The trees of a jungle collapsed, the ice of the arctic cracked, the grass of a savannah smoldered. Desert sand remained a constant. The ferocious wind's hand sculpted sand into arms vicious and raving; but when the storm died, the same sand remained unmoving like frozen pale undulations.

Jalaal appreciated such simplicity. Several hundreds of thousands years old, he easily comprehended such a blatant truth, capturing it as an eye caught the sun's light. It was so easy, so _simple, _to understand. Yet mortals ached under complexity's demands, pressured by its colossal weight and impossible difficulty, and collapsed from the toll. This revealed another truth; namely, mortals were fools. Yet, were they—the Bashir and others cursed by overly protracted lives plagued by thousands of wars, betrayals, calamities, and nights of wholesome despair—also all fools? After all, when one understood how the world pursued the most practical and efficient route, rejecting convoluted intricacy (although practicality still could be convoluted), expedience appeared justified; this led to actions delineated from virtue. When a people began to understand life's simplicity and having seen the world as it is and having begun to grasp fully the splendid cup of bloody productivity with chilled fingers, then life lost its brilliance, the unexplained became explained, and the beauty of life was belittled and mocked.

The result was the cast of an indifferent, worldly weary eye at life; or, an eye reaming, folded with ambition, pitching with expedience, like savage flames. Progression to either form was inevitable, unstoppable, as time continued long enough for the individual to understand all banal truths so well that he or she appreciated them not for their irony, but for their banality. This appreciation could escape many, however, and thus came the first difference between the former and the latter eye. The former remained relatively content, despite the ever-present gloom and depression that came with an elongated existence, but the latter saw truths as irritatingly trite and drowned them with fire.

After this drowning, what truth remains? Why, banally announced with phlegmatic glee, none other than the following maxim: _life is simple. _Thus, without virtue's restraint, the ambitious eye becomes more commonplace in the population. The only ones who battle this are those who protect hollow, purposeless, lifeless virtue.

Who wins this battle, a primordial battle between superfluous sustenance and cold-hearted virtues? The one who yields his sword with the speed of a tiger and strength of an ox, or the one who slashes with a lolling tree's inertia? The one who fights for the fiery glitter of gold and pleasure of illimitable control, or the one who fights for the empty shadows of morality? The former, _of course..._

_Yet here we are. We remain to battle for and protect this alien world, this alien galaxy. We seek to kill those with despotic ambitions, those who deny the very breath of liberty. Yet, liberty... a fleeting principle mortals crave, a façade of absolute adroitness; alas, it fails when the cynical eye awakens, it becomes as loathed as it becomes envied, it becomes the thing of dreams—good and bad. We Bashir still feel the romantic sigh of a long troubled heart craving the freshness liberty offers. Yes, we fight, we die for an empty principle, the stuff of unrealistic conjuring, a force absent within the stolid chaos of the universe. The universe saves true liberty for itself, to make and destroy its own laws._

His people would never recover their innocence—or ignorance more precisely put. Their newfound wisdom hardly was an improvement. If anything, knowing that all one strived for, all one loved, all one took comfort in was as callous as a blank stare, as distant as a collapsing star, as unattached to reality as a drowning thought, that all this served the piteous intention of giving a person a reason to live, was as if one's soul emptied into the blankness of oblivion, falling forever in fragments like the shards of a broken mirror. He had answered his question. They were as foolish as mortals were. No, they were more foolish, for in embracing progression they lost their love for good, creating their own gulfs of recurrent despair, like immovable rivers.

Yet, perhaps comically (_more like satirically)_, this dawn marked another day for the Bashir, for the progression of relationships forward or backward or in stasis, for praying to gods who had forsaken them or cursing the ghosts and spirits of Badaan that had followed the Bashir to Earth. This day was for the glittering smiles on faces or the soaking of the earth with cold blood and empty tears, for the pusillanimous gestures of those driven by the smell of sex or the haughty austere of the tight-lipped priests, for the cries and shouts and sighs of a people well acquainted with despair and betrayed by the goodness of life. Yes, for a people who despite having been knifed by virtue, continue to protect the liberty of those who still love it. These Bashir seek to instill good in an expedient world. Yes, they were disheartened; yes, they felt bitter; yes, they felt it was all for naught. But why let all of life crumble under fell despotism? Why let the already crimson river of life grow darker? Only cowardliness pseudo-justified this. And cowards... well, they are a fool's fool as the Bashir say.

_We shall march on, to meet and finally kill the heathen despot, Stryker_.

But for now, let the day unravel and the lives begin again.

--

In dark, desolate rooms, he breathed must, straining his heart with a thick concentration of grit and detritus. High arches; immense entrances connecting dreary and innumerable hallways, like gateways to one nightmare after another; the cajoling shadows created by his magical light stained the eyes of the Spanish boy, as if this region of the castle was deigned too devilish for mere children to straggle about, bungling with innocence. For here, one heard the footsteps of darkness itself, like a stentorian stampede of bulls; here, all _façades_ cracked as a hopeless shriek shattered the reflections of righteousness like a bat smashing glass.

He turned right, walking wherever, nothing his guide and everything to fear. His breathing disrupted silence, and his vision barely extended a few meters. His wand glowed, spraying tiny specks of light whipped through the darkness, each speck a blossom trapped in a water vortex. There was nothing fearfully perceptible. Still, he felt distraught. A fetid muck then layered the air. Green sludge crawled from the walls three meters ahead. A decaying figure lay on the wall.

_Oh... no, I can't take this. I'm nauseated. _He yelped, his eyes closed, tears streamed as river channels. He had witnessed his first true horror of humanity: a portrait of a man with a chiseled, handsome face; eyes sparkling with glory; loose, wavy hair flailing around his shoulders. Painted in crimson humanity by the use of a jinx, (he had read about this in _Introducing the Dark Arts: Necromancy_, a forbidden book he had stolen. He had eventually recoiled as he gleaned the author's horrific taste.) it was thus an eternally putrefying corpse lying on the wall. A stench of the raw humanity penetrated Andres's soul. His eyes wet and puffy, he now knew fear.

Yes, the footsteps approached. His steps weakened, his will succumbing to fear, inimical darkness reviving old fears he had replaced with quixotic boldness. This vainglorious flaunting of death painted on his heart a dark sigil.

Reduced to a little child again, he lost his phase of preadolescence as quickly as darkness smothered moonlight in this nadir. The castle fulfilling all the joys, longings, and dreams he had sought and invented with the imaginative flicker of an innocent mind was gone.

_Oh mom, dad... _

He needed them. He needed a hug. He needed his fears extinguished. He needed their presences' warmth.

He ran from the stench, leaving it in his wake, until he had completely disconnected himself from it—no, it was a sigil on his heart.

Sliding onto the floor, his tight back recumbent on the wall, he laid his head in his hands, letting out the tears of a lost child, hopeless and _afraid. _He was foolish to believe he could be independent. _Father: _wise, charming, filled with gusto and graceful courtesy, a woody musk always elegantly trailing him. _Mother_: enamoring, wily, reserved yet sophisticated, exuding the buds of vanilla mixed with zest. Together, they were whole, a whole animating his mind during the day to think, challenge, react, and easing it at night like a gentle leaf carried by a breeze, a whole that conduced the transition from the energetic to the dormant to the energetic again as the day darkened into dusk and a day's death simply meant a dawn's awakening.

Until this moment, life had been fine. He now wanted to comfort himself with their stories, their faces, their _reasons and problems._

His parents at this time were covertly battling for the Independents in Magical Spain, against the other three belligerents: the Oligarchs; the Monarchists; _El Archmagus _and his paltry crew of puissant followers. His parents being predisposed to liberty, justice, and egalitarianism based on universal suffrage, naturally supported the Independents. To sit by passively, allowing whichever side to win and then dislodge (or preserve) the status quo—one tentatively balanced between the executive powers of a monarch and pureblood noble Parliament—, refraining from lending their extraordinary magical capabilities was more than folly. It was according to his father, "disgustingly incurious and egregiously iniquitous." All the while, they worked ostensibly as Curse Breakers for _El Rey_, Ernesto Javier. He was unaware of their opposition to his hold of the crown.

"_You are my son, you are my daughter, you are my grandchild. My wife has failed me, and so she died, but I no longer care. Cristian, when I win this war, when I destroy all those damned fools, I will make you my heir. And your son, Andres, he will be your heir. The Pires, yes, your family will rule forever; I will be proud."_

That was a year ago on a foggy December night. A lust for power had awakened within Andres. Seeking encouragement and advise, he described his dreams of commanding the Spanish Empire to conquest after conquest, victory after victory, to his father, only to be shocked. He spanked him, he chided him, he told him about the vice of loving power, the wickedness of destroying a life for one's pleasure. Cristian vividly, his overwhelming emotions flavoring his cadence and diction, detailed the night his parents died, King Javier having ordered their execution.

It was a savage death—Spain's execution system was morally antiquated relative to the Muggle world. A man dressed all in black, his face covered by a cracked mask of black steel, had hovered over Cristian's parents, strapped and bound on a long wooden scaffold, with a cleaver that shined black light and cut with a mere rasp.

It all happened in an instant, Cristian's gaze unbreakable on his parents. Their heads rolled down the cliff and fell into water. Cristian went down, down to the black tides of the ocean, and found his parents' heads rotting, maggots writhing in their heads, and having splashed the sand crimson. Andres no longer had dreams about domination, about the strength to always impose his own will. He had begun understand human cravings and an inner conviction indwelled in him.

His tension began to ease. _Continue digressing. _

His parents had refused to send him to_ La Escuela Magica de Valencia_, the finest Spanish magic school and the second best magic school in the world (ahead of Hogwarts but below Japan's only magic school [_Why didn't Gohan go there by the way?])_, because it was near the Spanish Civil War. Now he was at Hogwarts. He had quite easily acclimated because of his age and the global perspective he gained from extensive travel. Andres was not entangled in the provincial; conversely, he had engrossed himself in several, distinct cultures, albeit most were European. Thus, Andres maintained a relatively refined and impressive international outlook. He still maintained his national pride and convoked his trademark air of Spanish propriety.

Before Hogwarts, within the Magical World, he saw international communication as infrequent, hence the repeated misunderstandings between people, and people's narrow scope. Every country was isolated, content with delightful seclusion and dependence on itself, spreading jingoism throughout the population. Foreigners were scorned, scoffed at with a suspicious eye. Wands, broomsticks, and the like were embraced blindly, even if a superior foreign product was invented. A spell or theory or experiment that could hasten a revolution floundered, every magical entity largely conservative and resisting the neoteric, rejecting the binding of one's finances to a foreign, yet advantageous enterprise. Innovation was discouraged; the ideas, formalities, rules, and propriety of ages past were heralded with a huff of superiority. Progress, as anathema as light to dark, in the magical lands was thus essentially nonexistent.

To Andres and his parents, the veneer of the beauty in preservation deluded the magical world. _Now_ and _then _needed to resemble one another, for _then _was when all was better, sweeter, more wholesome, more honorable; _today _sought _then_. Yet, the act of preserving the current status quo embodied selfishness and conceit. As the nostalgic eye examined the history of ages past, it overlooked the constant struggle for daily bread, the cries for help in an alley as a murderer sought to stick his or her knife in the victim; it focused on the inflated moments of chivalry and success. The magical world remained the same gust of despair.

One could juxtapose its backwardness to the Muggle world. Ironically, for all the jokes and insults about a people who lived in ignorance of a greater power, the Muggles were more advanced in _all _areas. Andres had seen this a year ago. It was as clear and startling as an individual coming out of years of darkness into light.

The Muggles facilitated good by creating diplomatic alliances partially guided by self-interest but also partially guided by genuine compassion to do best. Nationality managed to remain prominent in the people's minds all the while. Compare nations discussing and taking action to the isolation among magical lands. No such mass orchestrating for the good existed in the magical world.

The magical world was vulnerable, more vulnerable than the Muggle world, where allies and enemies were much more certain. One brilliant mind and one emaciated heart could easily play magical nation against magical nation, people against people. Unmitigated atrocities could be committed with no sense of affinity to a people of the _others_; the notion of being human would be discarded in favor of the notion of being _British, Russian, _or another ethnic background. Yes, this happened in the Muggle world, but the magical world was riper, mellower for the disgusting, for the reemergence of antiquated malevolence.

Spain now lit up in a blaze of fire as strife, divisions, ambitions fomented with each passing hour, with each day the actinic light cast a glow of glittering coins in the radiant sky. Andres knew his parents rejected the iniquity of humanity and the glassy, sleek hull of a coin. For Andres, there were only two sides in war: good and evil, light and dark, virtue and selfishness. Youthful innocence even within these catacombs of nightmares, of wicked antiquity, of stale air spun with the roots of betrayal. His optimism reflected the light of life unabated, for innocence is not as simple to break as many say it is. Innocence resists whenever beleaguered by the forces of the world: the crawling visage of sodden reality, the shadows slyly appearing in the chambers of the heart. It resists until it can no longer, until the world's weight crashes the shield, rips through like a set of sharp teeth. The world then is no longer as it seems; yes, 'the ecumenical flipped upside down'.

Innocence fought.

It was time to continue, and so Andres pushed himself off the ground, his hands having to touch filth and grub. He scrunched his face in disgust.

Wading through darkness and shadow, he approached the end of this corridor only to find himself in a pitch-black room, his wand's light engulfed. _How?_ A gelid cold penetrated his inner being, icing his usual semblance of effrontery. His small chest—he always comically pushed it out to attempt to enamor girls of all ages—was lank and sucked in, his body inert and unresponsive as he sought to sustain equanimity. He wept again. _No. I cannot._

Alas, a voice began to vibrate in the depths of his mind. It was internal. If someone had been next to him, he or she would hear nothing. He heard a woman's voice, swollen with anger. _"You fool, you innocent little fool! What are you doing here? This is a realm of memories lost, shattered, now the very dust in the air, the very particles your eyes see. This place is not for you, this world is not for you. Especially now; this world is being reborn, memories reawakening for minds to comprehend as if nothing had ever happened, dust welling up to mould a lost reality!"_

_What are you talking about? Who are you? Is this the beginning of insanity..._

_  
"You are as sane as you are foolish and ignorant. I sense your indignation. Ignore most of my jests, for yours is a condition craved, a stupidity sought. You're a wise man's fool, the fool of a foolish man. Alas, I cannot further explain. I shall truncate my sentiments and wise words. Who I am and what I am talking about is impertinent to you. You should hope it never is significant to you. This is the rebirth of ancient danger. You must leave this realm now. Flee and save your life."_

_What are you talking about? I'm just in Hogwarts. _

"_No you are not."_

_What?  
_

Words stopped, Andres trembled.

--

Dinner thankfully finished, _thankfully _because a blighted Hall, cheerfulness and brightness stilted, had made her more solemn.

Hours left a glass like the unconstrained gulping of ale, and Astronomy class with the Gryfinndors this Wednesday began, a new midnight among them.

Every class of Astronomy was raucous. Perhaps the diffusing of the pale moonlight on the students raised their suppressed, long-ago instincts. It was as this tonight, despite the emotional anxiety of the last hours. _How quickly people forget._ And just as quickly, class ended. Discreetly, Videl, Erasa, and Sharpener lingered behind, then eventually turned and tiptoed back to the tower. They needed soothing, the breeze around their faces releasing their ideas and foresights into the crispness of night to see each one twirl and twirl, mixing and coalescing to form a solution that warmed the heart and stopped the riotous mind.

They slithered toward the window, their feet almost levitating, then looked out. Stars were their company. A strange, restless fog began to crawl throughout the forest, concealing like the veil of a bride hiding her beauty from the world.

They discussed and reflected. Gohan: a menace or a victim of traducing? Perhaps both. They made no decision with the rumors. Yes, Videl had wanted to investigate every rumor, including the highly unrealistic ones, but a tentative story—stories with declarations beyond litigious; stories with make-believe, fantastical elements making factuality fawn to entertainment—were always concocted by the gossipers. Heightening the effects of her nauseously budding ennui, with every person and hour the stories grew ever ludicrous, as if the raconteurs used a base of fib to construct a theater higher into the skies, complications building up to form an accumulation of hackneyed climaxes. This convenient fatuity and éclat, Videl now realized, were cover-ups. There was no knowledge about what Dumbledore did. There was no knowledge about what Gohan did, besides the theory about wandless magic; that theory was impossible. According to the sixth year Slytherins, Gohan's blue sphere was too concentrated (beyond the saturation point) to be in harmony with accepted laws of magic.

_Supposedly he's a lizard from outer space recruited by the Muggles (who are the undead in disguise) to infiltrate the magical world and destroy the putative notion of the Wizarding World's independence. Don't you love those conspiracy theorists, Videl?_

Every part of the event was all too inexplicable, too idiopathic, too... _untraceable. _They lacked context, background, and origin; they could deduce nothing. Reasonable hypotheses, a flint of evidence, a lead... there was nothing. This state of mysteriousness would remain in equilibrium as everything remained unknown and Videl sought to discover and Gohan remained missing. This was dynamic but depressingly constant, like the blood in her heart curdling, flowing, entering, escaping. Yes, like her whispering blood, foreshadowing these repetitive cycles of reactants and products shifting left then right, up then down, like the shadow dancers in infinite night.

Mist rose up into the heavens, sucking expectation like a vacuum. As night came to life once again, its dark blood flowing with vigor, Videl felt its weight like a crippling debility on her spirit. Three pairs of eyes turned, gazing out at a veiled sky filled with hollow stars.

--

Nervously, he quickly razed his hair with his fingers, and then began to pursue his friend—the sweet girl of silver hair, startling eyes, and striking quaintness—to ensure her safety after having searched for her the entire day. It seemed as if an eternity had passed since the voice had admonished him. He walked on and found himself at the center of a massive room with five corridors to choose. His heart guided him, moving through one more recondite door in a labyrinth spanning forever.

_Wow, I'm in deep shit. But Gohan, wherever he is, would never forgive me and I would never forgive myself if something happened to Luna._

Fear remained in place, but the honor to protect another, a friend, reigned supreme, like a king over his minister. Moving again, a distressing thought then suddenly conglomerated from all the flavors of negativity, looking to torture him as in the cauldrons of his mind pitched a monster here and there, tumbling and crushing, around and around, of one name: self-doubt.

For whether he truly sought Luna for her life remained questionable. Was the idealistic notion of pursing honor, as he had readily admitted, a warped work of human narcissism, a flickering shadow boding to a self-interest of vanity? Was self-gratification his motivation, as he looked to gain accord and extolment from those around him, satisfying every avaricious glint that had ever appeared in Andres's azure eyes? Did chasing the silver-haired witch to avoid the terribly drudgery of guilt produce insight to decipher the mystery of his heart's text (which he still misinterpreted for it was a reading level years too advanced for his still jejune mind)?

_Dueling with the rapiers of philosophy, thanks dad for giving me a proper, worldly-wise, liberal arts education... at the age of four. _

He could not extenuate these moral questions. Doing so would extinguish the flames, however paltry, of self-understanding he hoped to continue feed as years bestowed wisdom upon him. _Not innocence, but guilt; not exculpation, but conviction. _ _Yet expedience demands reaction, I have to focus completely on protecting Luna and taking her away from this manifestation of shit. _

Walking sodden, he poorly tapered the monster, shrieks ever-present in his mind, ringing tortuously like bells. A mysterious animal, an arachnid, a hiss of snake—there was nothing and the silence externally was unbearable. Being one with total darkness and silence was the most disorientating experience he had ever faced.

_What time is it? _Hours had passed, midnight long gone, and the school day was beckoning. Emotionally anguished and fearful for Luna, his eyes remained wide open, his body resisting the seductive touch of sleep as his blood pumped and adrenaline rushed through his body. How much longer could he fool his mind, his body? How much longer until he felt the gnarl of fatigue become a burdening exhaustion and then shift into a bodily collapse? His knees buckled, he resisted.

Light falling somewhere ahead, these questions lost value. He saw a dim moonlit chamber and _Luna. She's here._

Hurriedly, he ran toward her, his feet stumbling over themselves and arms thrusting through the fetid air, his eyes painted in the scope of a friendly love, like the sun flaring on bouncing water. Needing to assure her safety, his velocity amplified. As darkness diminished and he quickly approached, Luna's small figure became clear, devastating.

A façade lifted, a darker lens replaced another, the flittering of translucent light was as invisible as it was frivolous, and a heart gently tugged and broke, leaving all lying in shadows.

Luna—trembling, her cheeks flushed as if she stood beneath a sweltering sun, the bottom of her robes and her shoes in tatters from the numerous protruding obstacles throughout the tortuous path toward here—let tears slide down around the soles of her feet like musty dust staining all.

_I'm no cobbler, nor am I a mender of souls. A Shakespearean allusion now? How disgustingly quaint. _

Standing still, his knees shaking as his heart cracked, he gulped in stale air, seeking to quench self-doubt for this vital moment, a moment Luna needed Andres. Stuttering steps became stronger, the gnarl of fatigue was forgotten like the burning of fastened tree roots, and all shadows withered away.

_She needs me. Let me forget about myself. Luna needs me._

He continued toward her, his life view transformed, his affinity and friendship with Luna on a new level, his paltry flames of self-understanding stronger.

Most important, the tears around Luna's tattered soles dried, the pouring of liquid grief stopped, the tormenting of a heart was relieved as she lifted her gaze toward the provenance of a familiar suave gait and saw a boy no longer callow, no longer sophomoric. He was a wreck, yet he was conscientious; he was mature.

Closer moved a boy whose eyes pierced every shadow and had compassion broken all over his face in shards.

_Now I understand beautiful serendipity. A cobbler and a mender of the soul, such was my grandfather. Oh thank you grandfather, thank you serendipity. _

xx

"And so he finally snapped, vexed of waiting for the haggard, idealistic fool, Dumbledore, to act. Possibly, it was not as schemed as opportune, but he nonetheless struck during Qudditch game, to obliterate arrogant Potter. Unfortunately, Dumbledore with his foolishly misused but no doubt laudable magical ability intervened to protect his anointed "Savior of Light", a kid profiting off fluky circumstance because of a rare slipup by Lord Voldemort.

"Hence the Heir of Slytherin's disappearance. After all, Dumbledore does not want Gohan to unleash his powers onto the school, lest the Ministry of Magic removes him, and so he clearly did something with Gohan. Exile? Certainly plausible. Death? No chance, he is the Heir of Slytherin and such a title is a thing of sage, inerrant prophecy backed by hundreds of years of traditional utterances.

"Yes, perhaps it was a mistake, an impulsive action producing unforeseen, or more properly worded, _unsought _repercussions. This is natural of course to one of our age, Heir of Slytherin or not. Nevertheless, my faith in the ultimate uncoiling of the webs that will capture all of Light in all its various sycophantic forms ignited by the Heir of Slytherin and his coruscating intelligence and orchestrated by Voldemort's powerful spirit is, thankfully, both unwavering and unswerving."

Videl regarded Urquhart, this young bright first year, one she now disrespected for proudly promulgating a disturbingly dark vision of a world controlled by an insane tyrant, driven, _and ruled by, it's important to note, _his innate lust for power and spilt blood, along with his more recent quest to kill the one who had successfully defied him. Undoubtedly disturbing, and despite being previously unaware of the magical world, she had heard of Voldemort, read about him, and knew him as indomitable against any Muggle. _Besides dad._

"By the way, daughter of earth's savior," Urquhart began, an arrogant smirk forming from one gaunt cheek to another, eyes shimmering like glory achieved, "what are you doing with these foolish mudbloods?"

An eyebrow raised, Videl gave Urquhart an inquisitive expression, a monomer of steel venom churning in her eyes. "What do you mean _mudblood_?" Erasa and Sharpener similarly fought down anger.

A gentle chuckle, far too sadistic for a child of eleven, _proving to me how unreasonably sick this world is. Has it always been like this?_

"_Mudblood_, a crudely vindictive slur—apt for such disgusting blood I would say—to some. It denotes a person with magical abilities—albeit inferior—with no magical heritage at all and is thus born from Muggle parents; you are a special exception," he added, making sure to punctuate the last clause by raising his eyebrows. "In terms of coarseness, I would rank it around _fucker._"

Three smacks, a loud thud on the ancient flagstones, and blood rolling down the floor, gushing out from the nose and mouth, like whispering waves over sand. A rush of cherry to her face, Videl, fists clenched, now smeared crimson, her brows precipitously slanted, had lashed at him with her martial arts prowess, unseen and still retaining a brick-breaking strength. Erasa gasped, recoiling at the sight of the crimson flow, while Sharpener stared at the closed eyes of Urquhart intently with satisfied vengeance and a shining pride for having Videl as a friend.

Students were watching. All remained still as the students who had been passing by and casually chatting stood in place to gaze at the scene with both fear and awe, Videl's brutish imposition of her will increasing their respect for her.

A pair of invincible eyes observed the scene. Dark curiosity chugged through the watcher's mind.

_One with power commands respect with a show of courage, confidence, and product, as is shown here. Yet, respect can taint the categorical imperative within a human as those who wield power for order occasionally dissent from virtue as self-justification blinds them. Those who witness twist reality to fit all presuppositions of perfection of said respected person. Too much respect, then, and no chastisement of the one who so flagrantly yields his or her blade and cuts open a victim, blood spilling out in the name of self-anointed righteousness, creates an illusion over the wielder's soul. For who is anyone to question his or her efforts? For who is anyone to oppose the justice he or she is instilling with the quick slashes of steel? It is no surprise then to see self-arrogance flare like a raging firestorm. But fire is rapacious and dies. The source keeping it alive, oxygen, eventually forsakes the dancing flames like a mother taking her baby off her breast; or, the fire's brightness blinds it; anyone with enough skill quenches the flames with a waterfall of liquid coldness. The fire's heart is left, beating, for arrogance lives after the first defeat. It dies when it is cast into an eternal lake of licking blaze, doomed to burn in its own element, crying out for forgiveness, a forgiveness forever withheld._ _This girl, she is vulnerable to such a fate, as was I so many years ago. And what am I now? Part of a distinct sphere of the universe, ignorant of how I have regained consciousness after having died seemingly eons ago. _Lament filled this wandering abstraction.

Fan the flames, let them burn, it's healthy; but make sure they don't get too _hot _lest they _consume._

--

A young taxi driver rolled down his window to gaze out at and regard the beautiful night. Torrents of black wind glazed his work-tanned face, bronze like the sun shining on wet sand, giving him goose bumps of exhilaration. Dark brown eyes sharpening and on his thin face, a long smile encroaching above a narrow chin and next to cadaverous cheeks and a few scars from his old life sprawled evenly throughout his face, he shot his head out the window, the air fresh and clean. This reviving 'West City air', a stark contrast to the mire lulling over other Japanese cities like grim shadows, filled him with a renewed love for life, like a precious kiss on the lips by a mesmerizing woman. Shoulder-length, oily, coarse, black hair whipping back with the flowing wind, he let out a hoot and holler at the ether above, a slate of ebony basking in moonlight's glow. The sparkling lights and unrestrained glitz, the growth of the wise entrepreneur to meteoric positions, the birth of a star from nothing but darkness, the freedom to become whatever one wanted as all roads remained opened, none blocked by the hand of a tyrant, triumvirate, or an oligarchy—this was beauty.

This night was his baptism—no, he had never been a religious person. His mother had adhered to Catholicism and his father to the Shinto ways; thus, they had always disillusioned him as they refused to reconcile either of their religions—in fire, straight onto the streets immediately after escaping his torpid life in the countryside. He now was happy, away from the absurdity of the pastures, a place Romantics heralded.

_Stupid romantic people. They are nothing but failures in the capitalist game, nothing but enviers for the life of a star, nothing but a bunch of pussies. This is what they are, and I? Well, I'll be a winner and a businessman, famous like them celebs. _

His parents had pushed him to the ground, into the dirt, to waste his existence in animal breeding, picking fruits and vegetables, plowing this insipid thing and that. Fate held a more beautiful plan for his life, for _him. _Since his childhood he craved the citified life: the air of distingue personifying every step; the trenchant gaze of a worldly-wise eye; the urbane and sophisticated appearance of a svelte man with an unconquerable presence, a presence that established him as the alpha male wherever he graciously stomped to assert and proclaim his power over all with the confidence of a tiger. He craved the life of the superlative in a vibrant, pulsating megalopolis. He was here, and no one could stop this confident beast, for he had been Destiny's golden child ever since he had tumbled out of his mother's womb unknowing of an eminent future when he'd be comely heralded as the savior of the planet, the harbinger of world peace, and thus forever a god among the people, the one and only god.

He chuckled. _Yeah, I hardly religious. Ha, I hardly religious. _

The greats all needed to begin somewhere, whichever position, however unjustified. Him? Well, he was obviously beginning as a taxi driver, albeit an illegal one. _Driver's licenses are overrated anywa_y. _They for them pansies! _He chuckled again.

Bringing his head back into the cab, his stare switched to his left, having with his peripheral vision seen an arm shoot out, beckoning him to stop. Of course, being a gentleman, he maneuvered the car toward the woman and child, albeit making a car sharply swerve away from him in the process, the car driver attempting to avoid an accident. Ironically, the car by happenstance ran into a wall, exploding. Woe the poor thing! It is to be hoped that his customer remained brave despite, to some (but not to him), his reckless driving. He prided himself since this was his first time driving. Yes, a baptism in fire, the blazing wreckage a hundred yards to his right a fitting scene, a sign of destiny. Another chuckle. _I crack myself up!_

Underneath a lamppost shedding its light in a circle, the woman, black hair partly fitted in a bun and partly drenched over the side of her shoulders, had been completely unaware of the accident. She was hushing a baby. The child had oddly messy hair pointed in all directions. Once she noticed his arrival, she opened the door with one hand, the other holding her now silent child, and entered into the taxi. _A pretty woman but not from the city. No, a country-woman. _He grimaced then mulled over what to do with her hastily, knowing time was short, for sirens were already approaching. He would have to discard the taxi later since a cowardly denizen awaiting the authority of the police had likely recorded his license plate. _Too much trouble to do anything to her. First night and I ain't gonna be a tard. Time short tonight. Time long in the future. Yes, I wise, I wise. _

When she finally noticed the accident, she gasped and covered her mouth in shock. "What happened?"

"I don't know nothin', I just mindin' my own business." She nodded numbly. He smirked, thankful of her simple compliance. Starting the hover car, he began to travel along in no particular direction, except away from the fiery scene.

"So what's your name lady? I like to know passengers' name. Me, the name's Kunio."

"My name is Chi-Chi."

"So we'rd you'd wannna go hun?"

"I'd like to go to the nearest farmer's market. I don't what my cuddle cuddles here to ingest any nasty pesticides."

"I 'eard from a doc that them pesticides aren't that bad: little evidence that they are."

"Well then he's an idiot sponsoring big business!"

"Well misses, maybe he just that."

"Sure he is!"

"K, then off we go." He began to drive her to the nearest farmer's market he had seen in his scant few hours in the city. Fortunately, he was blessed with a photographic memory, another reason his parents were stupid for trying waste his talents as a farmer.

"Would you mind waiting for me as I buy my groceries, I need to go somewhere else after. I'll pay you for waiting."

"Sure hun—"

"And don't call me hun."

"Sure... Misses Chi-Chi."

"You learn quickly."

"I doer just that." _More praise! See me now you damned cowards? See me now 'ol Ma and Pa? _The raillery went undetected. After a few moments of silence, besides the gentle snoring of her baby, Kunio decided to make conversation. "So were'd you come from? I know you sure as hell aren't from West City."

"Watch your language!"

"Excuse me miss, my parents weren't so kind to teach me how to talk to'er lady."

"You are pardoned, but you should look into some classes."

"Classes?"

"Yes, classes, they're all over the city. Just get yourself a newspaper."

"Thanks Misses Chi-Chi, I'll doer just that."

"You're welcome Kunio. Anyway, to answer your question, I've come from the east mountain area to stay with a friend for a few weeks. I'm relatively... lonely. And there are some problems with one of our... friends"

"Good for you."

"Being lonely?"

"Err, nah, going to that friend of yours. Oh, here we've arrived."

Chi-Chi returned from the farmer's market carrying various bags of produce by hand, large bags, filled with greens, milk, fruits, all carried by her. She was clearly strong, a trait admirable to Kunio. After she stored them in capsule, Kunio amazed by the technology, she got back in the car, carefully holding the baby the entire time.

"So why are you lonely?"

Chi-Chi looked surprised, the swift revival of the previously truncated conversation unexpected. "Oh, uh, my son, he's away at a school in Europe. He's learning and I hope he becomes a scholar. I won't see him until December so I need some company until then. And the friend problem... that's too personal."

"So we'rd you'd wanna go now?"

Her eyes still uneasy, she said, "I'd like to go to Capsule Corporations."

"And where's that hun'?"

A few moments of silence and he knew how foolish his question had seemed. "Really? You don't know?" she scorned. "You're a taxi driver for heaven's sake! What are you, a damn idiot?"

Gripping the leather covering of the wheel ever tighter, a ferocious spark in his eyes, he turned his head to shout at her. "You bitch! None calls me here an idiot!" He reached out to grab and strangle her. He shrunk back, feeling a burning sensation on his now flaring cheek. She bolted out of the taxi angrily with her baby in her grip.

"Kunio, what brilliant parents you got!" She yelled from a distance. "You're a bad representation of a countryman! I could smell, hear, see that from a mile away. The awful grammar! And I'm not even talking about your ugly, nauseating cadence! A hideous, muddy face filled with pockmarks that couldn't inveigle anyone, and a horrible temper, no cool at all! Probably a first-timer in the city, huh? As a proud, adaptable countrywoman, I know you'll never make it here!" With those words said, she stomped off to look for another taxi, or to walk. He contemplated whether to kill her, but the approaching sirens told him the police had truth.

Hastily, he sped away from the scene, feeling the deep wounds the damn woman's vitriolic words had punched into him.

She was right. He drove miserably through this terrible night. A baptism in fire, aye, and he had been wholly unprepared.

xx

"What do you mean I'm 'further inciting a rumor mill gone wild'?" Videl asked viciously, punctuating the quoted words with tense fingers.

"Calm down," Harry demanded weakly, unease clamoring through his body.

"We just told you!" Hermione stated, crossing her arms firmly.

"And how is that igniting a new web of fictitious rumors? I know most of them are a piece of crap too, and I'm not trying to slander Gohan! How dare all three of you state otherwise?"

Erasa studied her friend sadly. She never liked to see Videl angry, but now she was also worried about Harry's impression of her, Erasa, based on Videl's temperament. Who could blame him if he never wanted to affiliate himself with a girl whose friend was a ticking time bomb?

Sharpner stood next to Videl, nodding his head to her every word. Erasa ruminated over this scene, his subservient gesticulations and speech. _Like a dog. But how am I better? I always follow Videl, even if she's wrong. But she's my friend so what else should I do? But isn't it bad to tell her she's doing something bad? But... I don't want to her to be angry with me. _Was this a relationship of fear? No, it wasn't; she was sure of it. Erasa was confused right now, just now. Everything would be better later. Doubts would flow away down a river to oblivion, a place no one gave a damn about.

"Ron, Hermione, she's just trying to find a lead, and there's nowhere else to go after all so—"

_Look at Harry, what a sweety, trying to defend Videl from his own friends. If only I had his courage... _

Ron interrupted, "Videl, I've always looked up to your dad, but come out and admit it. You hate Gohan. Trying to figure out what's happening by asking people who obviously don't know anything is not going to help one piece of Merlin's undergarments. It'll just satisfy your already presumed picture of him."

"I'm not looking to appease my own loathing of him, got that Ginger?" Ron glared at her. "And bookworm, just talking to the people who have already spread the rumors and making them all piss their pants and make their faces look like their taking a shit does not add more wood to the fire."

"Yes it does! Our house is rife with rumors about Gohan being Voldemort's pupil or the Heir of Slytherin, or both. The bloodlust in our house is revolting; some people for the righteous cause of light are plotting to kill him if he ever comes back!"

Amused, Videl thought about what Hermione had said. _How the cause of the just is twisted to appease human savagery. Cult-like in determination, nothing will stand unmoved in Justice's path; it all shall be vanquished by a glorious sword. Virtue strikes and blood weeps. Hah! The blood is tainted by an opportune illusion of honor, hiding the beast within us all._

Erasa shuddered at that. "Kill him? That's not just! No one's proven anything!" she stuttered. Sharpener nodded his head solemnly, shock palpitating in his eyes. Harry, Ron, and Hermione all agreed. Clouds began to drift away, revealing the sun for all to see, its magnificence burning brightly, light traveling unimpeded through cold air.

"Yes, revolting, a disproportionate adjudication based on flimsy gossip." Videl's toneless voice continued, "But it's not my problem, I'm a Slytherin. It's your problem; it's Gryffindor's problem. It's not my problem nor is it my fault Gryffindors are prone to delusional, demeaning stances based on a perverted sense of manifest destiny or sanctimonious righteousness."

"And so you're going to absolve yourself from all this, because it's not your problem?"

She had enough. "Listen, you condescending know-it-all bitch, listen!"

Cutting through the cold breeze, the wand whipped out to target Videl. "I don't give a damn who you are! No one calls Hermione _that_!" Ron yelled.

Videl spent a second observing the wand, then stared at Ron, her eyes wry. "Are you that afraid of my image, that afraid of real fighting? You resort to magic? You feel satisfied by attacking a magically unarmed girl with some stupid spells of yours? Coward."

Ron's cheeks swelled like a red balloon about to burst. "Bloody hell no." Throwing his wand to the side, he launched himself at Videl. A cheekbone broke as the clean, ungloved, knuckles of her left hand smacked him. These same knuckles then slid onto his nose. A loud crack and blood gushed. The force—his body had been flying mid-air—sent him reeling half a foot onto his back with a thud, hinting at a cracked rib or four. "I said 'nor is it my fault.'" Videl coldly continued. "And it isn't, because it's ludicrous to correlate my interrogations to those disgusting wet dreams all you Gryffin'tards have of murdering Son, who—hell, even I can see through my abhorrence of him—does not deserve that!"

Shock hung in the air. Hermione recovered first, the red rising through her face. "Who are you to be talk about revolting savagery? Look at what you just did!"

"The ass deserved it."

Harry shook his head constantly, his eyes disturbed. "How could you? You're the daughter of—"

"Yah, yah, shut up about that! Just leave and move on with your dull lives." _And they said I was the one presupposing. Serves them right, the hypocritical bastards!  
_

They promptly left, carrying Ron.

And Sharpener held his head in his hands and slid down the wall. And Erasa began to feel pain and disgust open like a fresh wound. And so she wept, for she had been witness to what she could never have imagined from her best friend. She ran away from the two, but especially Videl. _Yes, especially me._

Mr. Satan's girl, staring at her impure hands, hung her head unseen and alone as if in a world of darkness, feeling a throbbing pain in her heart, the fire in her blood too hot to bear forever.

Erasa, a few hundred yards away, turned back for a moment then recoiled, frightened by a child of ashes.


End file.
